Stand Up For Us
by sciencegeeky
Summary: The Disciple, before she was the Disciple, was Dianna Leijon, a short girl with a crush, two best friends, and a hell of a lot to prove to her mother.
1. August-October, 1611

**A/N: Right well this idea came out of left field and I wrote eighty-eight pages single space in about four weeks. I did a lot of research to make this historically kind-of accurate (I took a liberty with Newton because I love physics), so feel free to point out any historical screw-ups! **

**Handy little guide: Hannah is Handmaid, Sumner is Summoner, Simonn is ****ψ****iioniic, Sigmun is Signless, Dianna is Disciple, Neolla is Neophyte, Mariek is Marquise, Patrik is E%patri8, Grantt is Grand Highblood, Orivll is Orphaner, and Candas is Condesce. The funny spellings are the result of an argument with my sister about the six-letter thing. Much thanks to those baby-name sites.  
**

**Much thanks to my wonderful moirail Slytherinpirate for the title.**

22 August 1611

Today was my sixteenth birthday! I escaped Mother especially early and went to Dolora and Sigmun's house like every day. I didn't think they'd remember, but they did! Dolora baked me a little cake with icing and it was simply delicious. Sigmun and Simonn and Dolora all sang and they gave me presents! I can't quite believe it, even now. Simonn gave me a hair ribbon that I wish I could use with my thick hair (I just know his mother helped him pick it out), Sigmun gave me a beautiful pen (Dolora definitely helped him), and Dolora gave me this journal (obviously). I think I'll commit to keeping a journal from now own; I quite like it.

There's one more thing: Sigmun gave me flowers. He came from the clearing right before Dolora served the cake with this messy little bunch of wildflowers. His hair was messy and he wasn't wearing shoes and his pants were too short but…he was the most handsome I've ever seen him, and I've known him for nine years. So I took the flowers like a glass vase and I…I kissed him on the cheek. He blushed so red! Is it possible to fall in love with someone you've known since you were seven? I certainly think so.

Mother forgot my birthday again. I don't know what I was expecting.

23 August 1611

He brought me flowers again. I wonder if he intends to keep doing this? I remember when he tried to kiss me when we were fourteen; maybe that's why?

Does he love me?

Simonn didn't come by today; I think he's with his parents. He's so lucky to have a mother and father who at least can tolerate him. They even love him most days.

Lucky.

24 August 1611

Flowers yet again today! Sigmun has the most earnest smile I've ever seen and it is far too endearing to be healthy for me. He just makes me want to faint, the absolute sweetheart! Dolora saw today and she gave him this look. I know she knows something, just from being his mother and my…I don't know what.

What is Dolora to me? She is not a mother to me; she's just different than a mother. She's not like Mother, but that's not really a fair comparison, considering Mother. She keeps an eye out for me and she knows me almost as well as I know myself. I suppose…an aunt? Mother has never taken me to see my other family (though I'm not sure I have any), so I don't know what sort of relationship one ought to have with one's aunts.

I don't know what Dolora is to me, but she's amazing.

25 August 1611

Mother says I have to do the shopping because she's busy. What on Earth could my mother possibly be busy with during the day? We live off Father's job and her parent's inherited money (she was the only child to survive beyond five). I don't know why she's doing this. Anyways, I've got to run because I have to buy something for dinner tonight. I'll do proper shopping tomorrow.

26 August 1611

Shopping list: onions, carrots, turmeric, basil, cucumber seeds, and three yards of green cloth.

The market was so busy today! It took me so long to get everything I needed that it's very late now and I'm exhausted. I've been up late for three or four nights in a row now and I want to get more sleep. Maybe I'll write more then.

27 August 1611

Flowers again. This time he put in some daffodils (my favorite) from Dolora's garden (I heard her shouting at him). He has the most gorgeous smile! And he's still not wearing shoes; he's shooting up like a weed! I don't think he knows what the smile does to me. It makes my insides squirm like a million worms and my face warm as the sun.

Maybe it's good that he doesn't know that. I'd just die if he knew what I've been feeling for him for months now.

28 August 1611

Today Mother told me that if I don't get married by the time I'm eighteen she'll move out to live with Father in his inherited house and leave me here on my own. How unfair! I don't want to get married so young! First of all, the only man I would even consider marrying is Sigmun. I suppose if I had to, for example, if someone I love or I would die if I didn't get married and I couldn't marry Sigmun, I'd marry Simonn. But Mother wants me to marry a man called Patrik who I actually have met and who I most certainly do not want to marry!

It is times like this when I remember that she is not my mother by birth.

29 August 1611

Perhaps I ought to write down some basic information about myself. My name is Dianna Leijon, and I'm sixteen years old. I was born on August 23, 1595, and adopted by my mother and father six months later. My father only comes around for one day twice a year because he's a trader. My mother doesn't really love me, or even care about me at all; she's more stuck with me than anything else. I ran away from her in the market and met Sigmun and Simonn at the playground when I was little. We've been best friends ever since. Dolora is Sigmun's mother. Well…he was abandoned by his birth mother when he was (he says) too young to remember, three years old. Dolora was eighteen. She rescued him and she's been his mother since. Simonn lives with his parents, of course, and his three younger brothers and one younger sister. He has a lot of siblings. I don't have any.

I live a little outside of town and Mother is rather rich because father is an important trader. We have a two-story house with a room downstairs for cooking and one for company and two bedrooms upstairs: Mother's and mine. I'm not married and I don't want to get married for a long time. I want children but not until I'm older.

I also have a crush on Sigmun, one of my very best friends.

I suppose I might as well own up to it, at least in this little book. I really like him, more than Simonn or anyone else I've ever met. It's like when I met that one boy in the village, only worse. I feel like I've been run over by a horse in the best way possible. It's been getting worse for about half a year now. Is this love?

30 August 1611

These flowers are starting to pile up in my room. I've been sneaking downstairs to refill my glass every night to keep them alive. They die in about a week, though…I guess that's why he keeps bringing me flowers.

He's so adorable, though, like that. I always come over at the same time, every single day. And every day he runs out of the woods and he's not wearing shoes and his pants are too shorts and his hair is just such a mess and he's red-faced and holding this messy bunch of flowers and he's got that earnest little smile and…I just melt inside. I feel like one of those girls in the village who chases after boys and marries a man who's a trader who they never see again.

Mother was one of those girls. I swore to myself that I wouldn't be.

31 August 1611

To Do:

Dress patterns (better-fitting top)

Errands (thread, fabric)

New shoes

Learn to cook Yorkshire pudding

Find nice flowers

Stop thinking about Sigmun!

1 September 1611

We explored the woods some today, not really expecting to find anything, but we found this little stream I'd never seen before! We followed the stream a bit and it turns out it runs right by the first clearing we ever found, the one with a pine tree in the middle. And it seems to be helping some patches of berries grow, which is excellent. We picked some berries to bring back to Dolora and Sigmun picked some and he held them out to me like those flowers and I swear he's just the sweetest boy I've ever met!

This is so frustrating! I don't want to be an empty-headed girl with a crush that rules her life! I'm trying to stop thinking about him, but failing horribly. His eyes, just the color of chocolate cake I can never afford that turn scarlet in the right sort of light, and his—

No, no, no. NO. I won't be that girl!

2 September 1611

We stayed inside today because it was raining and Dolora taught us how to make her version of Yorkshire pudding, with two and a half cups of fat drippings and butter. I really like that she doesn't just teach me how to sew and cook, or just Sigmun and Simonn how to read and write. Mother doesn't know I can read and write, of course. She'd be horribly mad at me, because she can't write and she can only read about half the letters. I can read and write properly.

Anyways, we had pudding for a very late lunch. Dolora was eating all nice with a fork and a knife, and Simonn ate a normal amount very fast (because he has so many siblings he says he has to dive for food before someone else takes it), and Sigmun ate double anyone else because he's shooting up like a weed, and I ate really carefully because I felt Sigmun watching me and I didn't want to spill all over myself with him there, too.

I need to talk to Mother about getting new shirts. Since I started growing sometime in the past year, I've grown more ways than one and I don't fit my old shirts too well anymore.

3 September 1611

I give up. I'm in love with him.

4 September 1611

I just wrote a draft of a letter I might give him to tell him. But it's absolute rubbish and I ended up throwing it in the fire (so Mother doesn't find out I can write). I mean, he brings me flowers, but I doubt that'll last. He'll move on from me before long. Anyways, he's probably just being nice. I'm not pretty, especially compared to the friends I've made who are girls who I see when I run errands. I run errands on the days when I don't stay so long at Sigmun's house or when we go into the market for the day. Neolla and Mariek and Hannah are all so much prettier and more fun and…well, better than me. Especially Neolla. With girls like them around, how could Sigmun ever like me?

5 September 1611

I was early today. Dolora was sipping her tea and I said hi like I always do and we talked a little (because Dolora is very interesting to talk to and because she is so much nicer than Mother) and she told me Simonn and Sigmun were upstairs because it was windy out. What a silly excuse! So I climbed the stairs and I was about to go in when I heard them talking. I know it's horrible (they're my best friends!), but I may have sort of eavesdropped on them. Just a little. Here's what I heard.

"But she's gorgeous and really clever and really funny and…gah!" (Sigmun sounded really quite upset.)

"You liiiiiiike her." (That was Simonn.)

"Shut up!"

"You do. You practically just said so yourself, stupid."

"When?"

(Simonn put on a voice for this bit.) "She's gorgeous and really clever and really funny…"

"SHUT UP!" (A sort of angry whisper from Sigmun.)

"So do you like her or not?"

(Sigmun didn't say anything for a really long time.) "Alright, fine. I love her."

"Let me guess. Since she turned sixteen and got pretty on us?" So it couldn't be me. I'm not pretty.

"Don't be stupid. Since we were twelve. Maybe younger."

"You've got it baaaaaad."

"Stop it!"

"So what're you gonna do about it?"

"Nothing, numbskull. She doesn't like me back, isn't it obvious?"

"Not really. I think you're being the numbskull here."

"Am not!"

"Yes you are!"

"Look, she's supposed to be here"

I chose that moment to knock on the door and say, "Hi Simonn, Sigmun! Sorry I'm early!"

"C-Coming!" Sigmun stammered. He opened the door and Simonn was sitting down and leaning against the wall with this smug look on his face and I couldn't help but ask. "What're you so smug about?"

"Sigmun, would you care to tell Dianna exactly why I am so smug right now?"

"No, shut up."

"Fine. Then I shall remain mum on the topic."

I rolled my eyes. Obviously Sigmun has a crush and probably on Neolla, the only girl besides me he's known since younger than twelve. "What, is someone in loooove?" I teased.

"Never mind," Sigmun said, way too quickly. Does he think I don't pick up on this sort of thing?

"If you say so," I relented, because his face was so red that I thought he'd faint. Simonn gave a snort of sarcastic laughter.

"Are you sure, Siggy?" he taunted. I decided to save Sigmun from properly fainting.

"It's not so windy now. C'mon, let's climb the tree!" I suggested.

"Who said it was windy?" Sigmun asked.

"Dolora did when I got here. She was having tea and everything."

"Oh."

So we went to the clearing with the huge pine tree and raced up to the top. I feel like that's something most sixteen-year-olds don't do, but I love climbing trees and so do Simonn and Sigmun.

I hope the trees never, ever get chopped down.

6 September 1611

We've actually started going into the village some days. The three of us just sort of wander around the market and the prettier sections of our little village. Sometimes we also talk to Sumner or Neolla or Mariek or Hannah or Patrik or maybe Grantt and Orvill and Candas (who travel as a sort of unified group. A bit like Sigmun and Simonn and I, come to think of it.) It's really nice, the market. Simonn's always cynical and funny and poking fun at everything and Sigmun is always laughing along and telling his own jokes and silly stories and our inside jokes and…I really like those sorts of days.

I wonder if Sigmun's hand brushing mine is a coincidence.

7 September 1611

Mother said I had to stay home today and she didn't even bother to come up with some lie of a reason. And that's why I came up with my lie. I told her I have a job to pay for my dowry. The only reason she approved was because she wants me married to someone rich (Patrik is rich). So…now I have an excuse. And I can tell her I'm visiting girl friends on weekends. Which I usually am; since most of my friends in the village are girls and we mostly go into the village on weekends, I usually visit Neolla and Mariek and Hannah and sometimes Candas on weekends.

Anyways, Mother believed me and I made it to Sigmun and Dolora's house.

8 September 1611

We had a plan for what we were going to do today and it was really fun!

When I got there, Sigmun was fidgeting and he had flowers and I took them and I kissed him on the cheek (like always) and Simonn just started laughing and laughing and laughing. And since we were about to go, I had to go inside and ask Dolora for a cup of water to put the flowers in. She gave me this look and I knew she knew who the flowers were from.

It was early when we set off into the woods. Sigmun found an old map of the forest with an old house marked on it and we were going to try to find it. I don't know who lived in Dolora's house before her and Sigmun, but they sure liked maps. Maybe some cartographer or apprentice who practiced by making maps of the woods. Anyways, we were going to find this old house and I was excited. It took hours, but we found it. It's not much of a house anymore, though. It looks like it was burned down. I wonder what happened?

We ate lunch there and guessed at the past of the house before heading back. It's weird to think that someday someone might find Sigmun and Dolora's house and wonder the exact same thing.

9 September 1611

Shopping list: Onions, carrots, potatoes, basil, salt, pepper, cotton thread, linen, and an envelope.

Mother sent me to do the shopping today. I already forgot she thinks I work in the village. This could get me in a lot of trouble before long, because I go to Sigmun and Dolora's every day still to spend time with my best friends. I'm not giving that up because Mother thinks it's wrong somehow. They're my friends! It's not up to Mother who I decide to be friends with!

Anyways, I left early and went to the market today. What fun.

10 September 1611

Mother's trying to write to Father. She can't write more than half the alphabet, so I'm not sure what exactly she's trying to do. But that's why she wanted an envelope. I guess she misses Father, of course, but why's she trying to write to him when he's probably out on the ocean somewhere? The letter won't reach him until he returns home (which is in about two months). On the other hand, what do I know? The only boy I've ever properly loved has never left town for more than two days at a time.

11 September 1611

Horrible nightmare last night. I dreamed that it started snowing early and the snow buried us in and Mother died because we didn't have enough food and Father never came home for me. I nearly always remember my dreams, good and bad, and I hate it. Mostly because my dreams are almost always surreal and confusing and I spend hours mulling them over, trying to pick sense out of them. It never works. A few of my dreams are out-and-out nightmares; those usually happen when I'm sick or one of my friends is sick or Father comes home. And a few of my dreams are just very good dreams, but I'd rather not write about those. It's too embarrassing.

12 September 1611

Mother is getting more and more irritated that I never stay home. I told her I'm just going to visit friends and to work, but she knows that my two best friends are boys and also that we meet in the woods. The woods are much more interesting than the market! And anyways, we can't very well gather at Simonn's house because of all his siblings, or at my house because of Mother.

I don't know what her problem with me having friends who are boys is. On the other hand, I don't exactly have the most radically minded mother ever. It's probably another one of her traditional ideas I've long since stopped questioning. My friends are lucky. Since he's the oldest of his family, Simonn's parents don't really worry about him too much and he can do just about anything he likes. Dolora (of course) doesn't mind the three of us meeting up every day and I am very glad for that because when it's cold or snowy and rainy or a million degrees out, we can sit inside instead of trying to find proper shelter in the forest.

Mother tried to make me stay home today, but I told her I'd get fired if I missed even one day of my job that I'm very vague about. I need to come up with a slightly more specific lie before she catches on.

13 September 1611

I could say I'm working at the seamstress's. They're at least three in the village and they all have a few girls working for them. I don't know, I'll tell her I do the buttons or something.

We came up with a basic sort of plan to build a bridge-type thing across the river that runs past the mill and through the woods. It's between a mile and a half-mile walk and there's no way to cross it without a bridge. The closest bridge is five miles away and we can't walk that far. So we sketched out some ideas, figuratively speaking, and I think we'll have something put together by November. I certainly hope so!

14 September 1611

Mother believed me, about working for the seamstress. I can't believe it. I feel horrible about lying to Mother, but I just want to spend time with my best friends; is that really too much to ask for?

I wonder who Mother's friends were when she was my age. She lived in the village and she was one of the girls who wears frilly dresses and giggles at boys and has probably never spent a day working or even in the woods. That much I know. But I don't know much else. Mother doesn't seem to trust me. Maybe she thinks I've been corrupted.

I don't really care that much.

15 September 1611

Today it was raining, so we sat inside and talked about things. Simonn and Sigmun don't do this very often with me, so I enjoyed it while I could. I may have two best friends who are boys, but I am still a girl. We mostly talked about silly stuff and dared each other to do stupid things. But we talked some about our families.

Simonn says that though he loves his parents, and they love him, he's got so much responsibility for his younger siblings that he can hardly ever stay somewhere else for a night. And his parents work a lot, so he must care for his siblings. I think he feels unloved because his parents never really worry about him. He's never had anyone care for him like Dolora for Sigmun or Neolla's mother for her.

Sigmun says he wishes he had a father. He loves Dolora, of course, but I think he feels keenly that he was left behind as a child. I think when he says he wishes he had a father, he means he wishes he'd known the family he might've had. He denies it, but I'm sure he remembers being abandoned. He was three; most everyone I know remembers a few things about being three.

I don't like talking about my family. My birth family is a secret. My real family is not kind. But…I told them. I finally told them about my birth family. I told them how my mother and father actually are the noble family of the nearby castle and I was adopted when they hit rare hard times because I am a girl and no one wants a daughter. (They have another daughter, but she's older than me.) I told them how I am, by every law including inheriting the throne, not a noble. But…it means that technically, my family is noble.

Simonn was just kind of shocked. Sigmun almost panicked. He thought they were going to come and kill me. I told him that they wanted me out of their lives and that they wouldn't even recognize me if they saw me. He seemed so worried about me, though! He always seems a little worried about me, the way I'm always a little worried about him. I wonder why?

16 September 1611

I can't believe it's taken me nine years to wonder this. I feel like such a bad person! Dolora said she had always wanted to be a mother, so why did she never marry? She's definitely pretty enough to. I ought to ask her sometime. Sigmun might've had siblings in another life.

I wonder what it's like, having siblings. I just live with Mother; I don't even have a father, not really. I just wonder what it's like to have more people around the house. Simonn would tell me I'm not missing anything (and he has told us this, several times), but just one brother or sister would be kind of nice, I think. I guess it depends.

17 September 1611

I asked Dolora about marrying and she told me to sit down. So I did, but I was a little confused because what on Earth was it? And she told me that she would never marry because she will never love a man and I asked her why, there must be someone, and Dolora said yes, there was, but she was a woman.

I didn't know women could love other women like women love men. I guess you learn something new every day. Though, I'm not sure why she asked me to sit down. But…Dolora did say "was". I wonder if the other woman died or maybe loved men? I still don't know why I'd have to sit down.

Maybe it's something to do with the beliefs from a religion Mother never bothered to teach me?

18 September 1611

I'm actually trying to recall what Mother's told me about her religion. I follow her in that I believe in God, but I simply don't know enough beyond that to say what my religion is. I guess I believe in being nice to people? Is that religion? I don't know.

I wonder what people are like when they're born. Mean or nice or empty or…I don't know. I wonder about people a lot. I really ought to find some books on the subject. I'd bet anything Dolora has some. She's got everything from Sigmun's favorite romance books (he still doesn't know Simonn and I know about that) to long, complicated books in Latin on things like physics. Simonn's read that physics book and he explained it to us. I wasn't really listening, to be honest. I listen to most things Simonn says, but I do not understand all this crazy new science. I prefer literature and (if someone besides myself is reading this, don't tell anyone) theater. Mother told me theater is a sin, but I love plays! I went to one with Simonn once (Sigmun was sick) and it was amazing!

That's something we ought to do! We should go see a play. I'll suggest it tomorrow.

19 September 1611

We're seeing A Midsummer Night's Dream in two weeks, on the second! Dolora and Simonn and Sigmun and I. I can't wait!

Sigmun's been bringing me flowers every day since my birthday. One of these Mother'll notice, but honestly I quite like them. There're so many flowers in my room that I think I'll have to get rid of some soon. Maybe I'll press them. That would be nice.

20 September 1611

I was early again today and Sigmun and Simonn were annoying each other again. This time it didn't sound so one-sided. I feel pretty bad about this, but I listened in again.

"Just how stupid are you?" (That was Simonn snapping at Sigmun.)

"As if you're some sort of genius!"

"Look, you've got to be blind or something to not see that she likes you back, idiot."

"And you'd have to be completely senseless to not notice that I don't have even a ghost of a chance!" (He actually sounded quite upset.)

"You've got more of a chance with her than I do with Hannah!" (So that's who Simonn's falling for!)

"She could literally have any boy she wants! Why on Earth would she choose me? It's obvious she and Patrik are going to get married!"

"Are you really that oblivious?"

"Looks, it's obvious Hannah likes you back, at least sort of. So why don't I help you with that instead of pursuing the hopelessly lost cause of my own love life?"

"Because someone needs to slap some sense into you and if it's not going to be Dolora and it's clearly not going to be Dianna it sure as hell is gonna be me!"

"I think I do quite enough, thank you very much, with the—"

Then I knocked on the door again because I felt really guilty about eavesdropping on them. "Hi guys!"

"Hi!" Simonn opened the door and glared at Sigmun. "Sorry, somebody is being an absolute moron about everything."

"Is this about Sigmun's crush again?" I teased. Maybe it's not nice, but they weren't nice when I had a crush on that boy from the village who moved away last year.

"Well," Simonn began. "Siggy apparently refuses to tell his crush he's head-over-heels in love with her. I, however, have no chance with my crush and therefore am trying to talk sense into him."

"Who is it?"

"Which one?" Sigmun asked.

"Simonn's."

"Hannah," Sigmun said, earning him an annoyed glare from Simonn.

"Oh my gosh, that's so cute!" Because it is.

"Shut up!" Simonn snapped.

"Oh, come on. Get her flowers or something! It would be adorable. Seriously. She'd love you if you gave her flowers."

Simonn actually stopped looking sure of himself, the way he does after winning an argument with Sigmun. "Are you sure?"

"Of course. What about you, Sigmun? Who's the lucky lady?"

"I…I can't tell you."

Okay, that stung a bit. We're best friends! The three of us tell each other everything. "Why not?"

"Because…I just can't!"

"I know who it is. It's—" Simonn started to say, but Sigmun tackled him. It's moments like these when I remember that my best friends are two boys who seem to enjoy things like that and how annoying that can be. I was going to tell them to stop, but they did of their own accord a few minutes later. "Don't you say a word," Sigmun threatened.

"I won't, jeez," Simonn retaliated. "Violent much?"

"I…sorry," Sigmun said. He absolutely hates anything to do with being violent. I'm sure it has to with his birth parents, because no one is very nice or gentle to an abandoned child on the streets.

"I was kidding," Simonn said, backing down. "Sorry."

"Well, if the two of you are quite done with trying to protect your love lives from someone who can read you like open books, why don't we go to the clearing? Or we could go swimming?"

"Bit cold for swimming," Simonn pointed out.

"The leaves are starting to change. We ought to go see the leaves," Sigmun suggested. "They'll be gone before long."

"That's cheerful," Simonn said sarcastically.

And I smiled and Sigmun smiled and we all went to the forest to see the leaves.

21 September 1611

It was Dolora's birthday today. She probably didn't think we'd remember or care. But it was also her day for running errands. Dolora's an apothecary and a midwife (it's the closest a woman can be to a proper doctor), so she's in the village a lot during the day. But today she told Sigmun she was going to be in the village until dinner because she had to get food and sewing supplies and medical things for the next three weeks. So we had plenty of time to bake a cake.

I suppose the cake would've been a better idea if any of us could actually bake, but we had a recipe for cake that was made with just a little bit of sugar (we don't exactly have a lot of expensive food) and we figured that if you follow the recipe, what can go wrong?

As it turns out, a lot can go wrong. We got all the ingredients and mixed them up, but Simonn forgot a cup of flour so we had to add it in last and I don't think it quite mixed through. Then Sigmun couldn't find the cake pans and we spent almost a half-hour searching. When we finally got the cake in the oven, I left the room for all of five minutes and I came back and Simonn had set the dishtowels on fire. Sigmun was dumping water on the towels and Simonn was busy panicking. I can't leave the kitchen (or any room, for that matter) with them in it. Last time, Sigmun accidentally mixed vinegar and baking soda and it took us two hours to clean up.

We finally got around to getting the cake out of the oven and it was only slightly burned and the insides were only slightly raw. Simonn and I tried to make frosting while Sigmun searched the house for a candle and honestly none of us really got anywhere. The sugar wouldn't mix in but we frosted the cake anyways and I have to admit that I can't believe the house didn't burn down. That would've been a horrible birthday present.

Dolora came home and we were all in Sigmun's room like always and I heard her drop something that I hope didn't break. She called for us to come downstairs and she asked us if we'd made the cake and we said yes and I apologized for it and she told me there was nothing to apologize for and she cut it into slices and we all ate that messed-up cake, even though it didn't taste very good, and Dolora looked so happy I thought she'd start glowing.

22 September 1611

I need to run errands soon before Mother starts yelling at me again. I'm never good enough for her. I'm too lively, too energetic, too active, too outspoken, too confident, too disobedient, too ugly. And on top of that, I'm not pretty enough, not modest enough, not submissive enough, not accommodating enough, not "kind" enough, not beautiful enough. It's always about how I look with Mother. I mean, I agree with her (I'm nowhere near pretty), but I do wish she'd say something nice for once. Aren't mother supposed to encourage their daughters? Or am I missing something?

23 September 1611

Shopping list: Carrots, onions, spices, ten yards of blue calico, a spool of green thread, one pair of lace-up boots in Mother's size, broth, bread, one yard of red cotton, and a hairbrush.

At least Mother does the cooking. I'm no good at cooking, as was proved by that cake. The only problem is that sometimes, when we fight, she doesn't let me eat dinner. I don't like that because I feel like she'd rather I die than live here a day longer. On the other hand, that's probably true.

I wish I wasn't so…everything. I wish I wasn't so ugly, opinionated, clumsy, growing, bad at cooking, bad at sewing and needlepoint and knitting, disobedient, energetic…I could go on. I wish I wasn't like that because I think my friends would still care about me and maybe Mother would love me.

24 September 1611

I need a new hairbrush. Dolora helps me brush my hair once in a while because my messy, curly, thick hair is in desperate need of brushing no matter what I do to it. Sigmun and Simonn help too, sometimes, because they're my best friends. Sigmun says I have nice hair; Simonn says he can't believe he doesn't pull chunks of my hair out every time he tries to help. Anyways, my old brush is broken beyond repair this time. I wonder how I'll get one? Maybe I can talk to Mother. (As if.)

It was Saturday, so Mother was home in the rocking chair with her sewing. But I have a feeling she won't be willing to just buy me a hairbrush. And she thinks I have a job, so she'll assume I have money. At this rate, I actually will have to find a job somewhere.

25 September 1611

Mother went to church today. She usually goes once a month and she tells me I can't go. I don't know why, either. As far as I know, there are no rules about people my age or women and going to church on Sunday! Dolora and Sigmun don't usually go, as far as I know, and I don't know why they don't, either. Simonn goes with his family, though. So it's usually just Sigmun and I on Sundays. And most things we do are no fun with only two, so he and I usually sit in his room or the tree and talk about things. Well, honestly, we've starting doing that more since around when I turned sixteen. I think we're just getting older.

Today we talked about all the stuff that goes wrong around here. Because a lot of stuff does go wrong! First of all, there's the problem that no one respects women. It's like we're objects! And then there's the people with dark skin, who everyone treats horribly. They're people, too! And then illegitimate children, who are treated worse than slaves. And it's so rigidly divided by class! Mother is…I can't remember the word. Bourgeoisie? I think that's it. Anyways, there's nobles and peasants and clergy and no one's allowed to mix and I just don't see why. So we talked that over a lot and Sigmun said he wanted to do something about it. But I asked him not to do anything crazy because I'm afraid for him. He's illegitimate by birth and I suppose by upbringing because Dolora's not married, and he gets treated horribly by anyone in the village who knows. A lot of them don't know, though, and I think that's really what gets me about this. If they know, they treat him like something on the bottom of their shoe. If they don't, he's just another person on the street. It's a bit different for me. People just automatically treat me like I'm stupid and thick and not worthy of their time. When I walk with Sigmun and Simonn, I get looks like I'm a fancy lady.

Something really must be done.

26 September 1611

I wonder what it'd be like to go to learn somewhere every day. I get fairly sporadic education from Dolora (willingly) and Mother (reluctantly), but it'd be interesting to go to a proper school and get a proper education like nobility do. That is the only advantage I can think of that I'd have if I hadn't been adopted. I know I'd have more food and a stable condition and more power, but I've met Sigmun and Simonn and Dolora and all my other friends and I wouldn't give that up for anything.

27 September 1611

I wonder what it'd be like, having children. I suppose I'll find out one of these days, because I do plan on getting married (just not when Mother wants). I'm just afraid of what'll happen to me and to my future child. I could easily die any number of ways, as could my child if he or she isn't a stillborn already. I'm terrified. I'm glad no one else reads these journals, because I'm absolutely terrified of giving birth and I don't want anyone to know that. I'm a woman, and women aren't supposed to have any reservations about having lots of children. I do want children, I want children with all my heart, but I'm so afraid.

28 September 1611

To do:

1. Buy a new corset/bodice

2. Tell Sigmun

3. Get Simonn to give Hannah flowers

4. Ask Dolora to teach me about being an apothecary

5. Find herbs in the woods

6. Make dinner

7. Find a better spot for this journal!

29 September 1611

I've decided I'll keep my journal in my closet in my four-year-old corset. Hopefully Mother won't think to look there. I think she suspects this journal because I spend so much time in my room (more than usual). But I can hide my little book and she couldn't read it even if she found it.

I've been thinking about him a lot lately. His lovely hair, his eyes that flash red in the light, his smooth and tanned skin, his able hands, his perfect face-shape, his gorgeous structure, everything about how he looks. And about how he's empathetic, and compassionate, and strong, and brave, and curious, and clever, and creative, and romantic, and sweet, and earnest, and…everything! And the worst part is that I don't just think about him. I think about him and me together and I can't stop that either! I keep having dreams of spending time with him in a clearing, just the two of us, and sometimes when I can't control my dreams (which is almost always), he leans in and we kiss and he starts kissing me harder and sometimes I feel his hands run down my back and—no, I can't finish that sentence.

It's humiliating when I wake from one of these dreams. Mother's told me things like them are wrong, but that's not why it's embarrassing. It's awful because I like them.

30 September 1611

Dolora made us all practice writing today. I guess she doesn't know I write every day. Simonn's handwriting is awful as ever. Sigmun's letters are neat and even like mine aren't. I love looking at Sigmun's writing, even more so I love him. I love Simonn, too, of course, but Sigmun is different.

Also, I managed to sew myself one shirt that fits and won't fall apart. It's embarrassing that I'm growing this way and I wish I wasn't, especially since I feel like it's been overnight.

We go to the play in two days. I can't wait!

1 October 1611

I found a penny I have lying around and a pretty dress to wear that fits well enough. I have no idea how I'll get out of the house for the night and go to the play, but I'll think of something.

Oh dear, what if it's dark when I get back? I won't be able to go home and I'll have to stay with Dolora and Simonn and (most importantly) Sigmun! For the night! Maybe I'm overthinking this, but even the most careless of parents would be shocked, at least a bit upset. I know I've done this before and I'd be sleeping on the couch (which I cannot complain about because it's extremely kind and it's a very comfortable couch), but…! (There is no better way to express my feelings right now.)

I wonder what it would be like to kiss him, though. I wonder how soft his lips are, how warm his body must be, how his hands would feel buried in my hair. I wonder if I'd feel that dexterity he has when he writes when he touched me, of if I'd feel his tenderness when he held me. I have wondered things like this almost ceaselessly for a long time and I wish I could just kiss him and then I'd know.

I bet his arms are strong and sturdy and everything I love about him. I bet he's wonderful to kiss. And I bet he loves Neolla and I'll never find out.

2 October 1611

What a day! It's late and I'm at Dolora's like I guessed. Luckily I remembered to stash this journal in my bag. I told Mother the seamstress had told me I had to work late tonight and she believed me enough to let me go. I told her I might stay the night and she told me that if I got pregnant she'd kick me out on the streets. Who does she think I am? Honestly.

So I met Simonn by the butcher's and we met Dolora and Sigmun by the road to the theater. While we were walking there, Sigmun's hand brushed mine and I thought he might grab on for a second, but he didn't. Maybe it was an accident. We all had our pennies and everything, so we got in right away. I absolutely love the theater, and so do my friends, so we were all just excited to see the play. Simonn was being sarcastic, of course, because that seems to be his default response to things, and Sigmun was really excited to be there. I know how much he loves theater. Dolora looked so nervous for all of us, because she's always treated Simonn and me like she has to take care of us, too. I think it's because Mother doesn't care about me and Simonn's parents are so busy they don't worry about him much, either, and she knows it. There are days when I go to Sigmun's house after a bad storm or something and she hugs me so tightly it almost hurts, like she's making sure I'm not a ghost. It's more than my own mother ever does.

Anyways, the play was amazing! It was about a fairy queen and a fairy king and a fairy named Puck who was honestly not very good at his job (mostly making people fall in love) and these four people who just keep getting confused because Puck's not very good with magic and Lysander is running away with Hermia, but Demetrius is chasing them because he's supposed to marry Hermia but she doesn't want to marry him (I can completely understand how Hermia feels). And then Helena loves Demetrius, but he's not terribly kind to her (poor girl), and then Lysander and Demetrius both love Helena because Puck did something wrong, but she thinks they're mocking her (and I can see why) and it all becomes a huge mess and over on the side there's a few people who fail badly at making a play of their own. And someone named Bottom gets a donkey head, falls in love with the fairy queen, and then the king steals the queen's changeling! That seems fairly awful to me, honestly. All a woman really has in this world is her honor before marriage and her children afterwards. Taking her child seems horrible to me. But the king (Oberon) takes the child anyways. And since he got what he wanted, he releases everybody and Hermia and Lysander get married, and so do Helena and Demetrius. I quite like the ending because it all turns out well and it's all very funny. I love comedies. All the actors were amazing, too! I loved the whole thing.

We walked home when it was dark and Dolora told me that there was no way she was letting me walk home in the dark and I could have the couch. Simonn was already planning on staying over, so Dolora made tea for all of us and then those three went to bed and I stayed up with a candle and this journal. But it's late and I really ought to get to bed. I'm sure I'll have one of my dreams with Sigmun tonight and I don't know whether to be happy or ashamed.

3 October 1611

I did have one of those dreams and I'm not sure I should feel so guilty but I do anyways. Also, I panicked when I woke up because I forgot I'd spent the night here and I thought someone had kidnapped me or I was going insane. Then I realized I was at Sigmun's house and therefore I really shouldn't be panicking because nothing bad has ever happened to me here. And then I remembered the play and everything and I nearly started laughing because it was the most fun I've had in a long time. I mean, my days with my friends are fun, but there's always Mother looming over me. I wish she'd stop trying to shape my life to be like hers! She's tainted almost everything I do, from spending a day with my friends to having a crush. She's ruined everything!

But I don't want to focus on that right now. I'd rather think about good things, like the fact that I have my best friends and that we saw a wonderful play and there are so many things in my life that are good and happy. I don't see the point of focusing on the negative; I never have. Well, except when it comes to myself, but I actually am that ugly and outspoken and unfeminine and everything else Mother says I am.

It'll probably come back to bite me some day, this optimism. But I don't really care.

4 October 1611

It's getting cold out and we can go outside even less. I hope it'll snow soon. I love snow! I've heard in some places it never snows and the leaves never turn and there're other places where it never gets warm and people wear winter clothes all year long. I much prefer the variety of where I live.

How can I tell Mother I need a new shirt again? My chest is growing at an alarmingly rapid rate and it's embarrassing because I can't hide it anymore. I'm just worried about what Sigmun and Simonn will think. We almost looked the same as children, except my long hair. Now I look different because I've started growing in shape, because my chest is growing out and my hips are defined, as well as my waist. I've been growing far too fast for about half a year now and I hate it. I'm shaped like a girl and it gets more pronounced by the day. Sigmun and Simonn look like boys, growing muscles and getting broad shoulders like men do. I'm just afraid that they won't want to be my friend anymore. I'm afraid to loose my best friends. I'm terrified.

5 October 1611

Mother just sighed when I told her. I don't know my inherited traits from my blood parents, but I'll bet anything they include stupid-looking, big, olive-colored eyes and ridiculously hard to brush, thick, curly, hair and a humiliatingly large chest. Mother glares at me whenever I mention something to do with my figure and I don't know why. At a guess, I'd say she's jealous, but who would be jealous of me? I'm ugly and unfeminine and nobody. I'm nothing worth being jealous of.

Sigmun was sick today, so Simonn and I went to the clearing and raced each other up trees and across the grass. It's childish (I'm "of marrying age" and Simonn is too), but I still love races. I almost wish I'd never fallen for Sigmun so things could be like they used to, before I couldn't stop thinking about him and burying the dreams I can't control anyways.

I told Simonn and he just nodded. "I bet he likes you, too."

"Don't be stupid."

"You're the one being stupid here."

"You could just tell me, I know you know if he does or not."

"But I can't say. Swore I wouldn't say anything. How dumb are you?" Simonn's not big on compliments, but it's his way of showing friendship.

"I'm smart as you! It's not my fault all boys are morons."

"Well, I swore I wouldn't tell you anything."

"So…you like me?" (I know how to get my friends to tell me things.)

"No!"

"Then who does Sigmun like?"

"I can't say!"

"Who do you like, then?"

"I already said."

"Hannah, right. Get her flowers!"

"No!"

"Oh my goodness, Simonn. You'll never get anywhere with her unless you do something."

"She's too good for me!"

"You don't know if you never try."

"But…!"

"Fine, I'll drop it. But don't tell Sigmun!"

"Don't tell him what?"

"That I like him, stupid!"

"Alright, fine. But you've got to do something, too!"

"Fiiine."

So I guess not I have to do something, but heaven knows what.

6 October 1611

I wonder why Sigmun tried to kiss me all those years ago. Maybe because I was the only girl around to kiss? I'd like to believe he liked me, but I doubt it. I'm just the only girl who's really around for kissing for him. He probably doesn't remember, anyways. He fell backwards into the berry patch when I slapped him and Simonn laughed and Sigmun laughed and I laughed and that's probably what he remembers about that day.

Why does he have to be so amazing? It's not fair.

7 October 1611

It's so funny when Dolora calls Sigmun "little love" or "little one" or "darling" and he gets so red in the face and sometimes I'd swear he glances at me sometimes, but I could just be crazy. That's more likely.

Today we tried drawing and Simonn is a wonderful artist! I can't say the same for Sigmun or myself. I'm certainly no artist and Sigmun's drawing of a flower looked rather like a cloud with a leg. But Simonn completely pinpointed the cover of the book he was drawing! I don't know how he does it.

I tried to draw Sigmun, but I kept messing up so I drew the cover of my journal instead (by memory). I think it's recognizable, sort of, except I am hopefully the only one who's seen my journal since I got it, so I couldn't ask Sigmun or Simonn.

Oh, and I had the strangest dream. There was this girl, a bit older than me, and another girl a bit younger. They both looked like people I knew for some reason and the older girl was carrying a newborn child. I didn't say anything and neither did they. They both looked surprised to see each other, and the older girl nearly fainted when she saw me. I wonder what that was all about.

8 October 1611

We went to the village today and met Orvill and Grantt and Candas. Orvill said he wanted to be called Orphaner because Orvill sounds stupid. I think Orphaner sounds cruel and scary, so I might stick with Orvill, at least in my head. There are enough orphans around without someone making more.

Candas scares me a little, too. When she talks about her plans for being queen, she's got this manic sort of look I don't see on anyone else. When Simonn gets passionate, he stars gesturing a lot and making less sense, but he looks excited. Sigmun speaks very eloquently when he's passionate about something and he always looks enthusiastic and it's so clearly heartfelt. But Candas gets this insane-looking spark in her eye that scares me a good deal. She's going to be ruling the whole country soon! Our village is less than a day's walk from the palace (which is why Candas comes here), so we feel the full force of the king (queen soon enough). I'm afraid of what we'll feel when she rules our country.

But of all of them, Grantt is the scariest. He doesn't talk much, but he always sounds a little bit out of it. In and of itself, it's not that scary, but what really chills me is the way he says things like, "Five hundred men died in the war last week". He says it like it couldn't possibly matter, like those men were disposable. He's going to be the second most powerful person in the country and I am terrified of what that could entail if human life is so unimportant to him.

Candas asked me why I dress the way I do (I've been trying to wrap my chest and it hasn't been working as well as I'd like) and I just told her I didn't like how I looked without wrapping and she laughed and told me that I could make good money if I didn't! What on Earth? Does she think every village person can't afford dinner?

I might actually talk to Mariek or Neolla next time I see one of them, because they grew up before I did and they might know. And Neolla plans on pretending to be a boy named Nelson to go to school in the city, so she's bound to know. I'll see them soon and then I won't have this problem anymore.

9 October 1611

I was in the market today (because I had to run errands for Mother) and I was by myself and this man just walked up to me and put his arm around me and said, "Hey there, sweetheart." I didn't know what to do, so I tried to get away, but he didn't seem to notice. His breath smelled like alcohol and tobacco and his fingers were greasy and slimy. "Get off me."

"Sugar, why don't you ditch the shopping and come have a drink with us."

I wanted to scream, or slap him, or something, but I was too afraid. Instead, I picked up my bags and ducked out from under his arm and walked home as fast as I could. I'm really upset about that and I don't know if that's okay. He's a man, though, so doesn't he have some sort of right to do that? That's what Mother says. I feel that it was wrong, but I'm sure Mother would disagree. On the other hand, she doesn't go into the village. How would she know? I don't want to tell Dolora or Sigmun or Simonn because they'd get all worked up over nothing. I'm sure it was nothing.

10 October 1611

Neolla told me that if I want to wrap my chest I'd have to pay a lot of money for a special sort of cloth that wouldn't give you cuts and make you unable to feed children later. She had some, but just enough that she'd be able to dress up as a man to go to school. The nearest cheap school is boys-only as a strict rule and she can't afford one further away. Mariek laughed and said that I had a great figure and I ought to show it off.

"Are you serious?"

"Oh, come on. You've got boobs and hips and everything. You dressed different, you'd have every guy in the village after you."

"But…I don't want every guy in the village after me!" Maybe she likes when drunk men flirt with her?

"Not the drunks. I mean the nice guys. You'd have a couple drunks, too, but most every guy would want you."

"I…I…I don't even want to get married until I'm older though!"

"Really, Dianna," Neolla said. "You're probably the prettiest girl in the village. In the city, too, I'd bet." I blushed really red and she added, "Who's the guy?"

"W-What d'you mean?"

"You liiiike someone. Who is it?"

"No one!"

"Right. I'll pretend I believe that," Mariek scoffed.

"Look, I don't want to talk about it."

"Fine. Whatever," Mariek said.

"How on Earth do you cope with the men?" She does dress the way she said I should, so I figured I might as well ask her. And also change the subject away from love.

"Oh, it's easy," she said. "If you mind, just don't go anywhere alone. When I don't feel like flirting, I wander around with Neolla here."

"You wander around with me because you actually like me."

"Bonus. Anyways, if you don't want to have guys all over you, chop off your hair and wrap your boobs or just walk around with one of your boy toys."

"What?!"

"Simonn or Sigmun, hello?" Neolla said. "Mariek just doesn't know the difference between a friend and a suitor."

"Look, I'll just go to the market with Simonn and Sigmun and I'll be fine, right?"

"If you don't mind people saying you're a prostitute."

At that point I made some sound of frustration and Neolla patted me on the arm. "Mary's kidding. You'll be fine if you don't go anywhere alone. Oh, and never go out alone at night." (She calls Mariek Mary sometimes.)

"I'm not stupid, I know what happens to girls who walk around alone at night."

"Alright. Hey, as long as we're all safe," Neolla said. Then we talked about some gossipy stuff and Neolla invited me and Simonn and Sigmun and Hannah and Mariek to her birthday tomorrow. I think it'll be fun.

11 October 1611

Today was Neolla's birthday! She invited a bunch of us over for a nice dinner. Neolla's family has money, unlike Simonn's or Sigmun's or Hannah's families. They're not rich like Patrik or Grantt or Candas, but enough that Mariek and Simonn and Sigmun and Hannah and I could come for dinner. Dolora stayed and talked to Neolla's mother and they looked all motherly, but I heard them talking and they were all gossipy like my girl friends and I can be. I wonder if boys gossip?

It was great fun at Neolla's because we were all having fun and laughing and just enjoying life. I don't get a lot of pure happiness because of Mother and I savored it while I could. We just had stew with a little meat in it and potatoes, and a nice cake. (Much better than the one we made for Dolora.) It's times like that, when I'm with my best friends and my friends and the people I love, that I actually think I might have a family. Not a blood family like most people, but a heart family. More like Sigmun and Dolora. A family at heart. How odd.

12 October 1611

Does marriage make two people family by blood or at heart? Or both? Because marriage is a joining of two hearts (or so I'd like to believe), but children make the couple bound by blood, do they not? I'm never sure of anything these days. Well, except my friends. I am certain about friendship.

We went hiking today and it was nippy and I felt (still feel) great. We climbed up one of the hills to the top where there's a twisted old oak and we climbed it and sat in the tree and the wind was blowing through my hair and I hadn't wrapped my chest and I just felt good. I could breathe properly and everything and I don't think Sigmun or Simonn even noticed. Well, I thought I caught Sigmun looking at me, but I'm not going to get my hopes up. That's happened to me too many times for me to let it happen again.

13 October 1611

Names are funny things. It's all in the way someone says it. When Mother calls me by name, it's the worst insult you could call someone. It's like "Diyana", all nasal and awful-sounding, and I can tell she spells it with one n. But when Dolora calls me by my name, it's either three short, sharp, scolding syllables (when I do something dangerous), or long and motherly with "dear" after it, like "Dianna dear." Simonn always says my name quickly, like he's got something more interesting to follow it with (and he usually does). And Sigmun says Dianna like a compliment, all sweet and soft with two n's like I spell it. My village friends say it all excited, the way I say their names, like we haven't seen each other in years. I'm not sure how I say my own name. I'm proud of my first name. Dianna—the huntress, the goddess. I like the shape of the words and I love the "Di" part and I refuse to take it the way my mother says it. But my last name is shameful. It's the noble family who keeps so many in poverty, who hurts people and doesn't care. I'm not like them. I don't want to be like them. I don't tell people my last name, and if I do, I say it all funny so it's unrecognizable. Different enough so it's still my name, but it's also _my_ name.

What if I did marry Sigmun? I'd be Dianna Vantas. I quite like that. Sigmun and Dianna Vantas. I'd love to be able to say "Sigmun and Dianna" like husband and wife. Not like "Mr. and Mrs. Sigmun Vantas" but with both our names. Sigmun and Dianna, Dianna and Sigmun. Now I've thought on it so much I'm sure to have one of those picnic dreams tonight. I'll keep dreaming about walks and picnics and kisses and hands and I'll keep being embarrassed until I can get him out of my head, I'm sure of it.

How am I supposed to do that?

14 October 1611

I was right. A swimming dream. I do love swimming in that little eddy of ours, even though my skirt weighs me down and my hair gets heavy and tangled. It was summer in the dream, July I bet, and it was just my usual swimming dream with just Sigmun and I. I don't want to write about it now, because I'm tired and today was more interesting than one of those dreams, anyways. (And maybe, just here, I'll admit I'm embarrassed about it.)

Today, soldiers searched the village. They were recruiting servants for work at the palace. Well…recruiting. More like enslaving. Sigmun and Simonn and I are all at risk and we were in the village when we saw the soldiers marching. Sigmun panicked and grabbed my hand and I grabbed Simonn's hand and the three of us sprinted away. But somehow, a soldier pinned us as "wrong". Illegitimate, poor, female, I don't know which ones of they latched onto or why, but as we started running, there was a man on trail chasing us like we were his prey. We _were_ his prey. Simonn was in the lead and must've known we'd get caught if we stayed in the village, because the guard or soldier or whoever was faster than us. So he did the only thing he could do: he pulled us away from the village and into the forest.

Nowhere near Dolora's, of course. No one's that dumb. I ended up in front and I pulled us towards the third clearing we've found, the one full of briars and pricklies. I could hear the man behind us, crashing through the woods as we pulled ahead because we all know the woods like the backs of our hands. Suddenly Sigmun turned sharply right and pulled Simonn and I into this ditch he must've known was there, because it was invisible otherwise. Simonn and I, since we were all still holding hands, basically flew into the ditch. I sort of landed on top of Sigmun and Simonn landed next to me, but I couldn't move because there were so many leaves; I'd make a sound. So I was stuck with one arm and leg and half my body sprawled over him and I could feel him and his heartbeat was so calm and I couldn't help but wonder how.

But anyways, the man ran right past us and into the clearing and he started shouting that he'd kill us if he found us. I was properly scared and I was shaking really badly, but Sigmun put one hand on my back and pressed just hard enough that it felt safe. I reached out for Simonn's hand and Sigmun took Simonn's other hand so we all knew the others were safe.

We didn't move until the man had long since gone and it was getting dark. My chest hurt from lying face down for so long and my friends were stiff and sore. It felt like it was freezing out because we were all in summer clothes, and Sigmun's nose was bleeding. He must've hit himself on something when we landed. I asked him if he was alright and I think he blushed (though I don't know why) and said he was fine. He sort of covered his nose with one hand and said he'd walk Simonn and me home. We went to Simonn's house first, then mine. I got close enough to my house to see it, then I told him he ought to go before Mother saw him. So I hugged him one more time and he turned headed for home. I slipped in without Mother noticing and made it to my room without getting yelled at. The whole thing left me rather scared. What if it happens again and we don't make it out?

Is it weird to be obsessing over how much of him I could feel when we nearly died? He's got such strong legs, all fast and able and everything. And I could hear his heartbeat because my head was near his chest and it was so calm and steady. I've always wondered if he'd be a kind husband, or a clever one, or a funny one. I'd guess he'd everything at once and I think the word I'd use to describe him would be "loving".

15 October 1611

We went down to the river today and it was too cold to swim (obviously), but we weren't there to swim, or even to fish or something. The point was to test out the swing.

We can't cross the river except by swimming, and that's really dangerous because of the current. Our eddies that we swim in do not protect us crossing the river. But the other side of the river is only part of the woods we haven't explored yet. So we made a rope swing over the summer, two actually, to cross the river with. The current is lowest now, just before the snow, so it's safest to test the swing.

I climbed the tree and crawled out into the best limb to hang the rope from. Simonn tossed the rope up to me and I tied it on. Sigmun was going to be the one to test it out. If it worked, he'd also have the second rope to swing back. Then we'd link the two ropes and make a sort of bridge to cross the river on. And if it didn't work, we'd fish him out of the river and just try again later. Sigmun's the best swimmer of us and the least afraid of swinging across the river, so that's why he was testing it.

I got the knot all tied as tight as I could and I dropped the end of the rope to the ground. I stayed up in the tree in case I had to jump into the river. Sigmun climbed onto the rope and Simonn pushed him as hard as he could. I was nervous when I watched because the river gets pretty cold in winter. Sigmun got to the top of the swing's arc and jumped for the other side.

He didn't quite make it. I had to jump into the river and grab him around the waist to pull him out of the current. Simonn tossed us a third rope he'd had the foresight to bring and I gripped that rope, too. Simonn pulled us out of the river and Sigmun started coughing water up so Simonn whacked him on the back and he coughed really hard and then stopped.

"Are you alright?"

More coughing. "Yeah. Fine."

"You know," Simonn said dryly. "I don't think it worked."

"You don't say," Sigmun answered, coughing again.

"Right, well, we just need a longer rope," Simonn said. "Or Dianna could tie it closer to the end of the branch."

"I think the second one," I said. "It's a really strong branch, it should hold."

"Can we wait on testing it again for a couple days?" Sigmun asked.

"Yeah," I said. "Come on, let's go get something to eat."

I hope it works better next time. It was pretty scary pulling my best friend out of a river. At least he didn't start drowning. I have no idea what I'd do if Simonn or Sigmun started drowning.

And, of course, what I can't stop thinking about was the feeling of his stomach under my arms when I had to wrap my arms around his waist. He's all muscles, I think. He probably doesn't have fat to spare, because Dolora is not rich. On the other hand, neither does Simonn. But he's all wiry and skinny. Not that that's a bad thing (I sound horrible right now), but Sigmun's just so handsome and so clever and so brave and so determined and I just love him.

16 October 1611

I had the swimming dream again last night. I almost always remember my dreams and this one more than most. The swimming dream is probably my favorite, even though it's the one I feel most guilty about. I don't want to write it down, but I also don't want to leave anything out of this journal. So here it is.

I always realize what's going on when I'm walking down to the river with Sigmun. The dream starts before that, I suppose, but I never remember it. I'm holding his hand and it's soft and warm and his grip on my hand is firm, but also gentle. It's usually just before sunset, judging from the light. We get to the river and dive in and we just kind of splash around for a bit and for some reason my skirt doesn't feel so weighed down like it usually does. Then, usually when the sun starts setting, he swims over closer to me and we float right next to each other and he kisses me and I don't usually remember how it feels, but I know it feels wonderful. And we have to hold onto each other tightly because we're floating in a river and I feel his hands brushing other parts of me besides my back and my hair and I don't remember that too well, either (I suspect part of it is my mind repressing it), but I still like it. In the swimming dream, I'm not always wearing a shirt and he hardly ever is (which is mostly why I didn't want to write about it). I guess the swimming dream is a guilty pleasure because I always wake up feeling happy and ashamed.

17 October 1611

We figured out a new plan for the rope today. I'll hang it farther out on the limb and we'll practice on land first so Sigmun jumps off right. It'd be so fun to actually build a bridge! Right now the plan is to fasten the two ropes to branches on opposite side and string them parallel so we can weave more rope and sticks and whatever else we can find between them and make a sort of sky-bridge-thing. We'd have to climb trees to cross, but that'd protect the bridge and anyways, when you've grown up with the forest as your playground, you can climb trees.

Dolora sighed nervously when we told her we needed more rope. I think she's worried the bridge'll break and we'll drown or something. I just want to see the other side of the river. I can always see mulberry trees and black raspberry bushes and I think it'd be great to have berries, and anyways, black raspberries with milk and sugar are my favorite treat.

18 October 1611

I haven't been sleeping so much. I don't sleep like I used to. I just keep having dreams! Sometimes they're swimming dreams, or picnic dreams, or something else happy. But weird, surreal dreams intertwined with horrible nightmares take up most of my mind. I'm afraid when I wake up a lot, and I wish I wouldn't be. I also see those two girls who I feel like I really should know more often, and they're a comfort. Especially the older girl. She always looks so excited to see me, as if I'm a long-lost relative. I try to talk to her, but I never can. And she can never talk to me, though I see her try. She's always cradling that infant carefully, keeping the little one close to her chest. The younger girl always looks a bit more quizzical and guarded, but I feel like she knows me, too. I think they're sisters, because they look just alike. Once, I saw the older turn to the younger and say something. The younger girl's eyes widened and she turned to me and I think she said, "Dianna?" I nodded. I wish I knew who they were! They're comforting, like family, but they're also unknowns. I just wish I knew.

I wonder if I'd sleep better if I could sleep next to Sigmun. I could rest my head on his chest and hear his heartbeat and feel his smooth skin next to mine. I wonder if he'd play with my hair, combing and twirling it until I fell asleep, curled up next to him. I wonder how he'd feel next to me as I slept, all warm and soft and safe. I don't feel safe all that much, and I wonder if I'd feel safe sleeping next to me. I wonder if he'd feel safe sleeping next to me, if he'd feel warmer or more comfortable. I certainly hope he would. I think the greatest joy in my life is seeing him smile.

19 October 1611

We're testing the swing again tomorrow. I hope it works this time, because it was not fun fishing Sigmun out of the river. And it was pretty scary! Even if I didn't love him like I do, I would've been worried and scared. I wonder if they could tell how afraid I was. My friends say I'm brave, but I'm not. I'm afraid so often that it's a wonder I do anything at all. I'm so confused about myself that anything I do end up doing makes me full of self-doubt. I know this, I know that I must be able to do something right, and I know it equally as well as I know that everything I do will go wrong. Maybe I ought to make a list?

Things I Can Do:

Read and write

Swim

Have friends

Stand up for myself (sometimes)

Things I Can't Do:

Be pretty

Be feminine

Be obedient/submissive

Not be outspoken/shut up

Cook

Sew

Be brave

Be strong

Be funny

Be clever

Looking at my list, I wonder if Mother has done this to me. It's just…Mother criticizes me for things my friends don't care about, and they compliment me for things Mother says I shouldn't be. Sigmun and Simonn and Dolora have complimented me on my beauty, my brains, my sense of humor, my bravery, my strength, my writing skills, my outspokenness, my kindness. I tell them thank you, but they're wrong. I'm just not anything good. That list didn't help anything; it's highlighted for me everything that's wrong with me.

It's funny, though. I don't care that all that stuff is wrong with me; I'm still going to meet my friends and speak up for myself and stand up to Mother. I guess I'm just too stubborn to give up the things that actually make me happy.

20 October 1611

The swing worked! We managed to string the two ropes across the river and no one got dumped in the water this time. Sigmun jumped across and he climbed the other tree and tied the second rope on. Which prompted the question of how we were going to get the ropes across, which Simonn had luckily thought of. He tossed me a rock and I tied it to my rope, while Sigmun tied a rock to his rope, and we threw them to each other. Sigmun missed the first time, but caught it the second time, and we tied the ropes on nice and tight. Then he had to make it back across, which involved this whole harness system I thought of and Simonn designed and Sigmun built. And that was pretty nerve-wracking because it was my job to help him off the harness without falling into the river again.

He climbed onto the branch and we got his harness undone. We were going to keep it so we'd be safer building the bridge, but it fell into the river and no one really wanted to go get it. No one was going to risk the river for a few feet of rope.

By then, it was getting dark and Simonn, who is honestly much more reasonable than Sigmun and I combined, shouted that me better come down from the tree before we froze to death or fell into the river. The sun was setting when I walked home and I think it'll be fun building up that bridge.

21 October 1611

I had another nightmare last night. The bridge was halfway done and Sigmun and Simonn and I were working on it when something cracked and I moved, but the plank I was standing on disappeared and I fell into the river. Except it wasn't all slow current like it is now, it was the high springtime current with white water. I tried to grab onto something, but I couldn't find anything. And Simonn and Sigmun laughed at me while I was flailing around until my head went under one last time and I woke up.

It was about two in the morning when I woke up, I think, so I fell back asleep, but my dream was about floating cups of tea and books that could talk. My dreams don't usually make sense.

I didn't want to work on the bridge today for obvious reasons, but it was raining anyways, so we stayed inside by the fire. We were by the fire because Simonn and I were both soaking from walking over. I think other people wouldn't understand why I always go to Sigmun's even if it's raining. I don't want to spend any more time around Mother than I have to. On top of all her usual insults, now that I'm shaped like a woman, she's always trying to get me to dress differently. She wants be to dress almost like a nun! I don't want to dress particularly provocatively, but I also don't want to dress so modestly. Is there something wrong with wanting to wear short sleeves or a skirt (heaven forbid) above my ankle? Honestly. And she told me I have to marry Patrik if I want her to stay around, even though I don't love him and he doesn't love me. On the other hand, Mother doesn't love me either. I think Simonn comes because his house is so loud all the time, full and loud and never restful. Dolora and Sigmun's house is so calm and warm and safe and full (in a different way). I wish my house didn't feel so empty.

Dolora had us do mathematics today. We do a lot more learning once it gets cold out and we stay inside more. Dolora's books include all sorts of books about math and science and history and language. I'd like to learn more Latin so I can read more of the books, and there's a book for that, too. Usually, we take turns translating the books out loud to each other while Dolora knits or sews and corrects us when we get it wrong. I've always wondered where she learned all of this, but all I know is that she grew up in the city. It's funny; she's so different from my other friends' mothers. I think if Dolora were a few years younger, she'd be my friend.

22 October 1611

It was warm today, so we worked on the bridge. We found sticks and planks and ropes and anything else there was and we got a good eighth of the way across. I was a little skittish about the bridge, but the two of them were fine and in the end, I was too. I don't know why my nightmares sometimes haunt my days; I know they're just dreams.

Simonn's going to have another little sibling soon. He wasn't going to tell us, but Sigmun and I could tell something was on his mind. He says the new one will arrive in five months or so. I wonder if they'll survive. Simonn only once talked about his siblings that didn't. Apparently, he's had two sisters and a brother die before they turned five. I wonder what would happen if Simonn did have another sibling. He's already the oldest; would his parents even notice him? He says his father is kinder about noticing than his mother. I wonder if he'd rather have my mother, hovering over everything and sharply criticizing every mistake or "mistake" she finds. I'd certainly rather have his father.

I wonder how Sigmun feels about his birth parents? He doesn't really talk about them, likely because he probably doesn't remember a lot. The only reason I suspect he remembers anything is because his last name is Vantas, but Dolora's is Maryam. None of us have normal families, but sometimes I think that works out better for some than others.

23 October 1611

We went to the market today. I met Neolla and Mariek and Hannah in the park while Simonn and Sigmun went off with Sumner and Patrik. Mariek's older than me and Hannah is a bit younger. Neolla's in between Mariek and me.

"I'm going to go to school next fall," Neolla said.

"How're you gonna manage that?" Hannah asked. "Yangsley's only takes boys." Yangsley's is the local school. I guess she didn't know about Neolla's plans.

"I'll dress up as a boy and call myself Nelson," Neolla said. "I can get my father to vouch for me and everything."

"You guys all want education or something!" Mariek teased, rolling her eyes. "I'm going to be a pirate."

"A pirate!?" Hannah exclaimed. "I just want to get married!" Hannah's rather like what Mother wants me to be, except she doesn't criticize what our other friends want to be.

"Yeah, a pirate," Mariek said. "Can't a woman support herself?"

"Yeah," Neolla agreed. "Why d'you think I'm going to school?"

"Wh-what do you think, Dianna?" Hannah asked me. I think she wanted someone to validate her.

"I think whatever you want to do with your life is perfectly fine." Because it ought to be! A woman ought to be able to be a pirate or a scholar or a housewife or whatever she wants to be. A man should be allowed to be a pirate or a scholar or a stay-at-home husband or whatever he wants to be. Why does no one else see things this way? It seems like it's just the eight of us who think things ought to be different. Even Candas doesn't see it this way, and she's going to be the queen! I hope to heaven that something can be done.

24 October 1611

It sounds horrible, but we're planning something for All Hallows' Eve. (I'm exhausted; I think that's why I let myself get talked into this) I know it's bad to pull pranks on people, but I think this'll be funny. And it's not on anyone who'll care. We're just going to put soap in the town fountain. It's a small one, and it won't hurt anyone. We just need soap. And I have an idea where to get some.

25 October 1611

I hope this isn't one of those things that seems like a good idea at the time. The day after All Hallows' is All Saints Day and the whole town will be celebrating that. Hopefully Mother will be gossiping with some village women and I'll be able to escape her and the giggling girls who will be like Mother or like Mariek's mother (who is a gossipy woman and a very archetypal mother) someday. I think sometimes that part of the reason I don't like them is because I'm afraid I'll end up like them. Fear doesn't always mean shaking hands and sweaty palms, I've discovered.

I've never really done anything like this before. I don't really know what to think of it right now, because it's harmless and at the same time it's fairly dangerous. That is, we will be in so much trouble if we get caught. And Dolora doesn't know, either. It was Simonn and Sigmun's idea, but I'm helping, too. We'll be pulling it off the night of October 30th because the fountain goes on in the morning. I hope Mother doesn't find out.

26 October 1611

Today we were reading a history book to each other and I was sprawled in front of the fireplace, half-asleep, and Simonn was reading while leaning up against the bookcase, and Dolora was working on a dress of some sort, when suddenly Sigmun put his face right over mine and shouted, "WAKE UP DIANNA!" I kind of screamed and Dolora smiled to herself (I don't know why) and Simonn threw the book.

"What was that?!" (I was napping!)

He smiled, all mischievous like he is sometimes, and he said, "You were sleeping just when we got to the part about Marathon."

"So?"

"That's when it gets interesting!"

"I was napping, Sigmun! I didn't sleep a lot last night."

"Why not?"

"No reason." I had a nightmare about all of them dying at the king's hand while I watched. I wasn't about to tell him about that.

"Oh, come on, why not?"

"I had a nightmare, why else?"

"Oh."

"Next time, could you try warning me before you start shouting?" Simonn grumbled. "I'd rather not throw books around."

"Uh…sorry."

"It's your turn to read anyways," Simonn said, handing the book to Sigmun. "I'm gonna get some water." We don't usually eat at Dolora and Sigmun's house because they have so little anyways.

"Fine." Then Sigmun started reading and I couldn't fall asleep because I like the sound of his voice too much.

27 October 1611

Mother and I got in an argument today. When I got home, my dress was dirty because it was what's likely the last warm day of the year, so we worked on the bridge. I suppose Mother thought I'd been doing something she doesn't approve of (heaven only knows what, that list is endless), because she stood in front of me, blocking the way to my room, and said, "Where have you been, young lady?"

"Work, Mother."

"What sort of seamstress's work involves dirtying this already awful dress?"

"I like this dress! It was just muddy on the road, that's all!"

"I know what you get up to, consorting with those friends of yours!"

"What friends?"

"Those girls in the village, that awful Natalia or whatever her name is—"

"It's Neolla, Mother!"

"Who wants to go to school, of all things, and that Mary—"

"Mariek!"

"Who's so promiscuous, going around with all those men, and that Hannah whose family has no money! The only respectable person you're friends with is the heiress to the throne!"

"You could at least bother to know her name! It's Candas!"

"How dare you be so disrespectful to the princess!"

"Because she's my friend!"

"And you never speak with Patrik!"

"Because I don't want to marry him!"

"You're not going to get anyone better! You're not anywhere near pretty enough for any other man in the village to look at you twice!"

"I don't care! Then I just won't marry anyone at all!"

"That is not an option, young lady! How dare you talk back to your own mother! I've heard you say the most awful things in the village, about how women ought to go to school and get an education and all sorts of ridiculous things! Haven't I told you enough times that you're far too outspoken and far too opinionated to ever have a husband?"

"I'm sorry for thinking differently from you!" (Mother hates when I'm sarcastic like that.)

"And there you are again with that sarcasm! You're the worst daughter a mother could ask for! Heaven forbid you wear anything even remotely feminine or brush your hair or at least try to wrap your chest!" (I gave up on that once I realized the only people who care are drunk men in the village. And once I got a bodice that fits properly.)

"What's wrong with my body?"

"You're ugly and far too busty and not nearly pretty enough to attract any men on your own!"

"How do you know that?" I know Sigmun doesn't like me, but she doesn't.

"If you mean that skinny boy with more siblings than his family can afford, he is far too poor for you to marry! And if you mean the boy with no father who lives in the woods with that awful 'educated' mother of his who follows you around, he is not one appropriate to marry for one of your social status, even though you can't seem to act it!" Does she think my best friends might love me that way? Can't I be friends with boys with nothing romantic between us?

"You know what? You're not my mother! You've never been my mother! You can't accept that I don't care about the same things you do!"

"How dare you! I have raised you for more than sixteen years and you have never appreciated me!"

"Because you haven't raised me! I haven't spent time at home with you except for dinner since I was seven!"

"You used to spend all your time with those horrid boys and that educated woman!"

"You never even bothered to learn their names!"

"Because you should never have spent time with them!"

"They made me better, Mother!"

"They made you worse!"

"If you had your way, I wouldn't have any friends at all!"

"Maybe then you'd learn some respect for your mother!"

"Just let me do what I want for once in my life!"

"You're being horribly disrespectful! Go to your room!"

"Fine!"

"And don't come down for supper!"

"Fine!"

I think arguments with Mother wouldn't wear me out so much if she wasn't right.

28 October 1611

Today I was trying not to be too upset (because that was my worst and most tiring argument with Mother in a long time as I spend most of my time avoiding her or blocking her out), but of course my friends noticed. They always notice! I guess I can't be surprised, considering that I always notice when they're feeling down. Simonn asked what happened and I just told them I had a fight with Mother. They know how wearing my fights with Mother are. It's just really tiring, that yelling. And I didn't have dinner, so I was hungry, too. I don't think Mother knows how much fighting with her wears me down. I suppose I have to admit I don't know how it affects her, either. But she knows she's not my mother and she knows I care too much about my friends.

We started on a physics book today. Physics is a new sort of science that talks about how things move and I think it's pretty interesting. Except whoever wrote this one huge book on it, Principia, wasn't too concerned with making simple sense. But Simonn's quite good at breaking it down for Sigmun and I, just as I break down language books for them and Sigmun takes apart history and ideology books for us. I guess we all have our strengths. As far as I can understand, there're three laws about things: they stay moving at the same speed in the same direction or stay still until something pushes or pulls them, they move more if pushed or pulled more, and two things put equal force on each other when you push or pull on them. Simonn got very excited about this and I find that very endearing (in a platonic way).

Also, Sigmun showed us calligraphy and he did my name and I thought that was also very endearing because he was so careful with the letters and he did that thing when he wrinkles his nose because he's concentrating and he was holding the pen really tightly (I guess to keep from messing up) and I just love how he looks when he's focused on something he cares about. He's radiant when he's like that! I need to stop thinking about him, though, or I'll never be able to focus.

Mother didn't speak to me today and I didn't speak to her. At least I got dinner.

29 October 1611

I wish I could help out Dolora and Sigmun! They have so little because a lot of the women who think the way Mother does don't go to Dolora for remedies, so my friends don't have enough to eat. I'm decent with hunting, because I like shooting with a bow and arrow (yet another unladylike thing Mother hates about me). Maybe we could go hunting sometime. I'm sure Dolora would sigh and tell us to be careful, but she'd be worrying until we came back, like she does. I know Dolora's not my mother, but she cares about me more than Mother ever has.

Today we all tried calligraphy and I have grasped the letters D, A, and I pretty well. One more until I can write my name! Simonn still isn't very good, but I think he's getting good at S. Of course, Sigmun knows the whole alphabet and he can write all these beautiful words where the letters connect and everything. I wish I could write like that! It would be so much fun.

Oh, I nearly forgot. We finally found enough soap to dump into the fountain. This is exhilarating!

30 October 1611

I got to Sigmun's early today because sometimes Dolora gives us chores to do and we had to make sure we'd done all of them. And because I am a horrible person, I heard Simonn and Sigmun talking and I listened again.

"Is all you ever worry about girls?" (That was Simonn.)

"No! Excuse me, how often have I brought her up? Maybe once a week at most!"

"Yeah, but you've been obsessing over her for months now! Just do tell her already, moron!"

"I can't!"

"And why not?"

"Because I know she doesn't love me, okay? I know it."

"Look…how about we stop yelling at each other and cooperate to solve all of these issues?" Simonn sounds so formal sometimes.

"Okay. Fine. So, the main problem here is that you love someone, and I love someone, and both of us know that the other one's crush does in fact like them back while knowing that their own crush does not."

"I can't think of a more confusing way to put it, but yeah. Basically."

"So who's right?" Sigmun asked.

A long silence.

"I don't know."

Another long silence. "Why is she so perfect? It's just not fair." (Sigmun sounded really lovesick and I know it's horrible but I'm really jealous of whatever girl he loves.)

"You sound like a lovesick twelve-year-old."

"Shut up!"

"I don't moan about Hannah, do I?"

"You do! Just last week you were going on and on about how she was so sweet and so shy but also so beautiful…"

"Shut up!" (Simonn was really embarrassed.) "Look, Dianna's probably here by now."

"Fine. I'll go check." I knocked on the door just as Sigmun opened it and his face went from the face he has after arguing with Simonn to the one he has when he's a little bit flustered (which is incredibly charming).

"Hi!"

"H-Hi," he said, and I don't know why he was stammering. I want to believe it's because he's nervous around me, but I know that's not true. But his smile is just so captivating! He makes me want to faint and at the same time it's like a rush of energy. I wish there was a word for it.

I told Mother I had to work late again and Simonn's parents don't have work, so we all said we were staying over. Once Dolora was asleep, we went into the village with the soap that I took from Mother's cabinets and dumped it all into the fountain and it was exhilarating! I'm almost afraid to go into the village for All Hallows' Eve tomorrow, but at the same time I can't wait. Here goes nothing!

31 October 1611

Oh my goodness. I went into the village today with Mother and I had every intention of escaping her right away but the fountain was absolutely full of bubbles! I mean, they were everywhere! And the ground around the fountain was so slippery that people kept falling over (no one got hurt) and I felt really bad for laughing, but almost everyone was laughing. I could see Mother trying not to laugh, and that is saying something! I saw Simonn with all his siblings and he was covering his mouth with one hand and I saw Sigmun with Dolora and his whole face was red from not laughing! Dolora also looked about to burst from keeping it in and I have a feeling she knew it was us and didn't particularly care. I hope Mother didn't realize.

Anyways, the entire town had to avoid the fountain or risk slipping and falling for the rest of the day and the man who maintains the fountain (I have no idea if that's his job or what) just flushed it out with water and someone cleaned up the square so we didn't hurt anyone, not really. From the look of it, I think most people thought it was pretty funny.

I think I know who painted Mr. Tailor's house, though. Only Mariek would do something that mean.

Mother took me to the park, where she met all these women with daughters my age who giggle at everything at kept pointing at men they thought were good-looking. None of them were as handsome and Sigmun and I bet none of them were nearly as kind or funny or sweet or smart or honest as him. Actually, Sigmun walked by and I asked them what they thought.

"Who, the skinny one or the short one?" one of the girls, I think Mary, asked.

"The short one." The skinny one was Simonn.

"He's alright. Sorta…short, you know?" one of the other girls, Joan, said.

"I think he's quite handsome. Anyways, he's sweet and funny and quite smart."

"Does he have money?" Mary asked.

"No."

"Then why bother with him?" yet another girl, probably Elizabeth, asked.

"Because what's the point in marrying a man with money if he's just going to use you?"

I got a lot of strange looks. "You're an oddball, Dianna," Joan said. "Oh, look at him!"

I am an oddball, but I'd rather have my sweetheart crush and friend for a husband than any of the men they were looking at. So I waited until they were ignoring me again and I slipped away to find my real friends. I've never spent time with all my friends at once before. Sigmun, Simonn, Hannah, Neolla, Mariek, Candas, Grantt, Orvill, Patrik, and Sumner were all there. I don't know why Grantt and Orvill and Candas bothered coming here; the celebrations the city must be so much nicer. I have no particular desire to live in the city, but I'd love to visit.

Anyways, we all chose a spot in the park and stood around there. People were handing out flowers and sweets and that was especially nice. I ended up with a few flowers I wove into a little bracelet (a trick every little girl learns in the village) and several sweets I ate right away before Mother could bug me about ruining my figure. We don't have a parade or anything for All Hallows'; everyone just gathers and there're sweets and flowers and it just feels sort of festive.

But it got late and dark and we all had to go home. Since Hannah and Mariek and Neolla and Patrik all live in the center of town, they went their way while Candas and Grant and Orvill headed for the road. Sigmun and Simonn and I live in the same direction from the town square, so we walked home together. And Simonn's house is in the village, so eventually it was just Sigmun and I walking home alone.

He had a flower from earlier and I don't know why, but he pushed my hair back (I always let my hair fall in my face because I know I'm not pretty) and he tucked the flower behind my ear. He has the gentlest touch of anyone I've ever met! He was so tender and delicate and it was just so sweet! It was all tentative and careful, like I'd slap his hand away. I was blushing so red my face felt like it was on fire! He didn't say anything, but he sort of dropped his hand and smiled awkwardly, like he was embarrassed, and then turned left where I had to turn right. I can't even think right now! I had to hide the flower from Mother, but I'm not getting rid of it. I'm sure he was just being friendly, and no boy would keep a flower anyways so why not give it to a friend, but I do wish it meant that he loves me. Oh well. I guess I know that's never going to happen. I wish and I dream, but I know in my heart of hearts that my dreams will never come true. Any of them.


	2. November-December, 1611

1 November 1611

Today was All Saints' Day! Mother and I went into the village because it was a holiday and she wanted to see all her friends again. And I got stuck with those giggly girls from the center of town. "Hi, girls," Joan said. "So, I think I'm going to try to court Henry. The tall one." (She's eighteen, so she'll be getting married quite soon.)

"He's so handsome," Mary said in a dreamy sort of voice. Then she switched to almost businesslike. "How're you going to manage that?"

"It's easy. I'll pretend to court some other man to make him jealous."

"He's definitely looking at you. All you've gotta do is find someone else who'll fall for you," Elizabeth said.

"How about him?" Mary said. "The short one." They were pointing at Sigmun.

"Oh, just right. And see how he's looking over here too? Definitely looking at you," Elizabeth encouraged. I didn't bother to point out that he was "kind of short" yesterday.

"Either me or Dianna," Joan said.

"Of course it's you!" Mary insisted. I made eye contact with Sigmun, blinked, and looked away. Joan's far prettier than me; he'd never choose me over her.

"You're a heartbreaker anyways, Joan," Elizabeth said. "Just act like you do and he'll fall head-over-heels for you."

"Alright," Joan said. She set her shoulders back. "Wish me luck!" She marched over to Sigmun and I know it's awful but I was green-eyed with jealousy! Girls like her, who can just walk up to a man and make him like you, just remind me how flawed and hopeless I am.

"Don't you think it's kind of cruel to deceive a man like that?" I asked Mary and Elizabeth. I think it sounds simply awful. Anyways, I don't want to see Sigmun's heart break. I hate seeing him in pain.

"I think it's fine. It's more important to marry a man with money, anyways," Elizabeth said.

They started gossiping about some girl named Frances I've never met and I turned to Sigmun and Joan. She was being very flirty, all hips and hands. But he was stepping away, and he looked kind of alienated. He held up his hands like he was trying to fend her off and she looked quite offended, then stormed back to us.

"What happened?"

"He told me that he was courting another girl!" Joan hissed angrily. I think she was more upset that she was rejected than anything else because she's never rejected. I'm sure he wasn't lying, because he doesn't lie. I wonder who the other girl is? You'd think I'd know. It'd be obvious, really. He doesn't do anything halfway. He'd be giving her flowers and doing nice things for her like that. Who could it be?

After all that, that Henry boy came over and started talking to (of all people) me! I don't know why, either. Anyways, I just talked to him like I would anyone else.

"Hey there. Don't see around much."

"I'm not in the village much."

"That's too bad. Dianna, right?"

"Mm-hmm. And you're Henry, right?"

"I sure am. How come a pretty girl like you doesn't spend more time in the village?"

"I spend my time in the forest, or reading."

"Oh, you can read?"

"Of course. Can't you?"

"I can read a few very important things."

"Like what?"

"Oh, like, for example…body language."

"Can't we all?" I could tell he was flirting with me, I could hear it in that voice and see it in his gaze that entirely failed to meet my eyes (and rested elsewhere, like my chest), and I didn't like it.

"Well, I know what your body language is telling me."

"That I'd rather be somewhere else?" I said. Because I wanted to be in the woods, or at Dolora and Sigmun's, or at least somewhere else. Somewhere away from him, because I was trying to tell him to go away without being rude and he wasn't getting it. I suppose flirting is alright, but not when one person is trying to tell the other to leave.

"Like where?" Did he have to keep persisting?

"My best friend's house. Maybe the forest."

"Who's your best friend? Is it me?"

"No. My best friends are Sigmun and Simonn."

"Boys?"

"Yeah. What about you?" Might as well try for polite conversation.

"I think I've found a new best friend."

"Who's that?"

"A very pretty girl."

"Who? Joan?" Well, it couldn't be me.

At that point, he rolled his eyes and said, "Never mind." I guess he got the hint. I just didn't want to be rude, but I also wanted him to stop giving me that awful look like I was a particularly succulent turkey. I don't like it.

He left and Joan gave me a withering glare. I guess she was mad he was flirting me. I was a little afraid, to be honest. Joan can be pretty scary when she wants to be. Why are so many of the village girls so strange this way?

At any rate, I finally escaped them all much later to spend my time with Sigmun and Simonn. We ate sweets and played horseshoes and sang silly songs and laughed. I love holidays with my friends. There's this sort of belonging I get with them that I don't really feel anywhere else. I just feel sort of welcomed.

I'm actually writing this at Sigmun's because I couldn't find Mother and Dolora invited Simonn and Neolla and Mariek and Hannah and Sumner and I for dinner and that was really quite fun. I remembered to keep this journal in my purse because I keep pressed flowers in it and I wanted to have some to give to the little ones who run around looking for sweets (which I can't afford). It's rather late and most of the others have left, but Simonn and I are staying a bit later. I hope Mother doesn't get upset.

2 November 1611

I stayed over at Sigmun's because it was late and dark when I planned to head home. Mother's going to kill me when she gets home from running errands. Oh well.

Anyways, I was asleep on the couch like always and I had a nightmare. I dreamed that all my friends were dying and every time I reached for them to try to save them, they screamed louder. I suppose I was thrashing around (I either thrash or get paralyzed when I have a nightmare), because I felt someone shaking me awake.

"Dianna? Dianna? Are you okay?" It was Sigmun. "Do you have a fever or something? Should I get Mama?"

"Just a nightmare…" I breathed. I couldn't manage much more.

"Oh." He kind of shifted awkwardly. "Anything I can do?"

I don't know where I found the courage to say this (probably exhaustion), but I said, "Just…stay here. Please."

"Okay." He pulled up a chair and he held my hand and he started stroking my hair and I wish I could fall asleep like this every night. I'd never have another nightmare. It felt so good just to feel his hand on my hair because he was so gentle and that warm grip on my hand just…I can't describe it. And I heard him talking to me, though I'm not really sure what he said. Except I thought I heard, "Go to sleep. I'll guard your dreams." Maybe I was dreaming. And…I also thought I felt him press his lips to my forehead, just once, like when he gives me flowers and I kiss him on the cheek, but maybe I was imagining it.

I woke up in the morning and he was still holding my hand. He was sort of leaning back in his chair, sleeping actually.

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead." That would be Simonn, sarcastic as ever. He smirked and added, "It's nearly eight."

I kind of panicked because I really had to get home. Dolora called us to come to breakfast and she had that knowing smile on her face. What is it that she knows? So I shook Sigmun awake and we ate breakfast and we went to the market because it still feels like a holiday and I wish his hand brushing mine was on purpose but I know it wasn't. It can't be.

3 November 1611

Mother was very mad at me today (she was sort of drunk last night and she didn't recognize me. Again). She slapped me and shouted for a while until I could escape to my room. She said I was irresponsible and a horrible daughter and some other stuff I don't remember. I wish she wouldn't say things like that, but she's probably right.

I really don't know why Simonn always laughs when Sigmun brings me whatever smattering of winter flowers he's managed to find (still, every day!). Plenty of winter flowers grow around here. Well, a few. Okay, almost none, but he still finds some every day and I don't know how he manages it. I think it's very romantic and sweet and I'm blushing even writing about him. And I can't stop thinking about how he was so kind when I was having a nightmare…my nightmares can be pretty horrific sometimes, and that one was one of the worst. Why did he do that for me? He's my friend, of course, but he was holding my hand and stroking my hair and that seems like something he does in my imagination. And he sounded so worried, like I might actually have a fever. Not to mention kissing my forehead and telling me he'd guard my dreams! If I was observing me, I think I'd tell me that he loved me (that was a strange sort of sentence). But I'm not observing me, I am me, and I know that no one will ever love me the way I love Sigmun, especially him. I'm just not the sort of girl who has a love who loves her back.

We went outside today, all bundled up, and to the river. It's starting to freeze and it was such a sight! The river's current is so fast that it's never quite safe to cross on the ice, but over the eddy it freezes pretty much solid and we can slide around. I can't wait for winter!

4 November 1611

Shopping list: onions, carrots, five yards green fabric, one spool green thread, a new shirt pattern, salt, pepper (which is far too expensive), tea, an envelope, and a ribbon.

5 November 1611

I was so busy yesterday that I didn't write at all beyond that shopping list! Days like that irritate me to no end. I love movement, and I love being outside, and I love doing things; I don't like sitting still. I never have. But I enjoy sitting down after a long day and pouring out my thoughts someplace private where I can sort out my tangle of conflicting desires. I want Mother to love me, but I want to be myself and keep my friends. I want to believe my friends but I do believe Mother. Who knows what's going on in my head these days?

Anyways, today was just a normal day. Exploring the woods (though there's not much left to explore!), reading some books, napping by the fire (though that's just me), eating dinner with Mother while she nags endlessly and I remain silent. Now all I have to do is fall asleep and hope my dreams don't make a lick of sense tonight.

6 November 1611

Luckily for me I dreamed about pieces of paper and pens dancing to music and then carrots having debates with onions over whether or not shirts ought to be sold from clouds. I much prefer dreams like this because I'm sick of feeling guilty and ashamed and I hate being afraid. I wish I could fall asleep every night like I did when Sigmun was holding my hand. To feel his hands, warm and gentle and dexterous and delicate, against my own tired skin, or to hear him whispering kind things to me; I think that would be just the best thing in the world.

I can feel Mother's stress building because Father should be coming home in a bit longer than two weeks. I don't know what to think about this because I do not love Mother, no matter how I think of it, but I also feel bad for her because her love never bothers to come home. I wonder if she knows as well as I do that he is not faithful to her? I need no evidence beyond the scraps of paper he leaves behind with calligraphied names on them and the behavior that so mirrors that of the men in the village who wrap their arms around me and call me "sugar". It's almost painful how obvious this is and I don't want Mother to know it, but I'm sure she does. How odd it is that I want happiness for Mother while I also can't stand to be in the same house as her.

Today I decided to be especially stupid while I was reading a French book to Simonn and Sigmun. I could tell Sigmun was dozing off, so I threw the book and said, "Catch!" He started awake but didn't catch the book; instead, it landed on the floor next to him (I planned it that way) and he jumped. "That wasn't fair!"

"You shouldn't go falling asleep when you're learning French!"

"But verb conjugations are no fun."

"The subjunctive is just when it get interesting!" (So I was kind of teasing him at this point…)

"Hey!"

"You shouldn't wake me up when we're reading about Marathon or whatever it was." (Because I didn't want him to know I'd gone over that moment twenty times at least in my head.) "Okay, maybe that was unfair, but still…"

"Alright, alright." (He was sort of backing down like he does.) "So are you going to keep informing us of the many ways to conjugate être? I'm so fascinated!"

"Shut up!" (I was teasing.)

"Well I actually am interested, so will you two stop flirting so we can get on with it?" Simonn snapped. He's been snappish and I think it's because his mother's pregnancy is making his family more ignorant of him than ever. (Also, his parents told him he doesn't have to go to church on Sundays a few weeks ago, so he goes to Sigmun and Dolora's instead. I've heard church can be very boring.) But the flirting comment made me flush a horrible shade of red, so I hid behind the book and let Sigmun answer.

"As if!"

"As if what?"

"Just let her keep reading, jeez."

"Right." (Simonn rolled his eyes and leaned against one of the bookshelves. I was in a chair, Sigmun was leaning against the couch, and Dolora was sitting in her rocking chair.) "Read on."

At any rate, I doubt I'll remember a word of that book by tomorrow. And I'd swear there's something Simonn and Dolora both know that I don't and I wish I knew what it was! I don't like not knowing. I'm always the odd one out and I'd rather not feel that way within my own group of best friends.

7 November 1611

Je sois, tu sois, il elle on soit…that's as much as I remember. I really hate my mind sometimes. It remembers everything I want to forget and forgets everything I want to remember.

That reminds me, I had an excellent dream last night; it was the picnic dream. I'm so glad I've written them all down because now I can just write the name and not worry about how ashamed I feel.

Oh, and it snowed for the first time today! Well, the first time it stayed. I had flakes in my hair and my eyelashes when I got to Sigmun and Dolora's, not to mention all over my cloak. I curled up by the fire like I do because it was just so cold! If I didn't know better, I'd say Sigmun was staring at me. But I do know better and I'm not that dumb. I'm just not love-able. Is that the word? The point is, I'm not and I know it. At least I'm like-able enough. I guess if I can't have my love, I wouldn't mind just seeing him every day. It'll eventually make me crazy, but at least I'll get to see him happy.

We studied more French today and I successfully told my friends that "it is necessary that we drink water to survive." (Il est necessaire que nous buvions de l'eau de survivre.) One of these days I'll know all sorts of languages. I love languages the way Simonn loves science and Sigmun loves history and writing. If he wanted to, Sigmun could make the whole world agree with him with just a speech. I've heard him. It's amazing. I love his voice and I love his speaking and I wonder how anyone could not find him convincing.

8 November 1611

Mother's tension just means she sends me on more errands. Food, fabric, needles, soap (whoops), whatever she can think of. It cuts into the time I can spend with my friends and makes me irritated because the amount of unused things sitting around the house grows like garlic mustard. I hate all the clutter.

But if this time is anything like every other time before, it'll die down in a week and Mother will switch to nagging me about how I dress and how I do my hair and how I walk or whatever it is this time. I'm tempted to hem one of my skirts to the knee just to annoy her.

It was freezing out today and I forgot my cloak. Dolora crossed her arms and smiled at me, half-amused and half-reprimanding. It's a look I got a lot more from her when I was a clumsy twelve-year-old. I don't drop things so much anymore, or so I'd like to think. Mother calls me clumsy sometimes, but not enough for me to know it to be true. Dolora can always tell when something's wrong and she made me a cup of tea with honey in it and when I tried to tell her that I was fine and she didn't have to, she just gave another one of those looks and I took the tea.

"Tea?" Simonn asked me. "What's wrong?"

"Mother. She's been stressing because…just because," I really don't like talking about my father.

"Right. I'll pretend I believe that," Simonn said sarcastically.

"I don't want to talk about, okay? I don't like talking about everything, jeez."

Simonn held up his hands and rolled his eyes. "Why're you being so defensive? I just asked."

"Never mind," I said. "What say we read something on science today."

"Fine by me," Simonn said, picking up one of the books he always reads from, but not the physics one. Sigmun sat next to me, closer than he normally does, and he threaded his fingers through mine and squeezed once before letting go and moving to sprawl on the couch. I know he knew something was up, but he doesn't usually call it out like Simonn or I. Simonn acts all sarcastic and callous, but he cares. He just shows it differently. And I always call it because I know my friends don't like talking about things and I can understand that, but sometimes they really have to.

At any rate, we read up on chemistry today and I found it rather interesting, actually. It's not like physics, which is just not something I can grasp, and it's not like biology, which is kind of disgusting. I don't like drawings of dead thing's insides. Call me mad.

Oh, and I found a nice hair ribbon in the market today I'd like. I think I'll ask Mother, because I could to with something to keep my hair out of my face.

9 November 1611

Mother said I could get it! I never thought she'd do anything nice for me, but maybe it's just that I actually need this particular item. My hair always falls in my hair and once, when I was cooking, the ends caught on fire. That was especially terrifying.

We studied some romance book Sigmun pretended not to like today. I really ought to tell him Simonn and I know, because he always gets so flustered about those books! Although I find him very charming when he's flustered, I think I should tell him.

10 November 1611

More errands. I hope this dies down soon so I can put the house back in order and get back to spending my time with my friends, instead of running all these useless errands. I hate going to the market alone because there's always at least one man who's drunk enough or desperate enough to try to flirt with me. I hate it because I don't care what Mother says about men having rights to this, I feel that it's wrong. It just feels wrong. I think that I should be allowed to choose who touches me! Is that really too much to ask for?

At any rate, it happened again today and I did what I always do, which is bite my lip and walk away. I know speaking up won't get me anything. It never has. No one listens to a woman, no matter how clever or right. I learned that from Mother. Sigmun gets very worked up over things like this. Once I talked about the time I saw a man yelling at a woman who was presumably his wife and when she spoke back, he slapped her. I think that was wrong, so I told Sigmun and Simonn, and Sigmun got very upset. He said it was so wrong, this was all so wrong, why could no one see it. I almost wish he wouldn't; he worries me. But he's right; something must change. It's anyone's guess what.

11 November 1611

11/11/11 today. Isn't that supposed to be good luck? I certainly hope so. I saw a shooting star and I wished on it today. Does writing down your wish count as telling someone? No one else will ever read these words (I hope), so maybe not? But I won't, just to be safe.

We read some French today and I'm happy because I love languages. So far, I speak English , Spanish, Italian, and Latin fluently (well, Latin decently. Sigmun's best at Latin). I want to speak French and German and Russian and all those other beautiful languages too! How can anyone stand to just speak one language?

I have a feeling that something is bothering Sigmun. Every time I see him, he's always glancing over at me and it makes me feel rather self-conscious because what is it? Do I have something in my teeth? Is there a spider on my arm? (That happened once. Luckily, all the books survived.) What is it?

I always thought Mariek was joking about boys being "an enigma worth the greatest of pirates", because Sigmun and Simonn have always been pretty transparent to me. But here I am, utterly unsure of what he's thinking. At least Simonn's still pretty obvious.

12 November 1611

Simonn didn't come today; I think one of his siblings must be sick or injured again. Simonn's family always comes to Dolora for healing, but Dolora was out today (as usual), so I don't know.

Dolora being out isn't like Father being out. Dolora goes out, does her work, and comes home every day to make dinner and she still manages to be teacher for us. And she sews all her clothes (Sigmun's too), keeps her garden, and reads every book she can find. I want to be like Dolora when I'm older; she's amazing.

Anyways, Sigmun and I went to the river, because it was especially cold today and sliding on ice is fun. Nothing but our little eddy was frozen over, but that was enough to slide around on without falling in. Except once, I got kind of close to the edge and he grabbed my hand to pull me back and his hand was warm and strong and exciting. Everything about him excites me. He grinned and pulled me towards him and I spun around like crazy until he caught me and said, "You'll fall in, you know."

"I'm fine, Sigmun."

"Just don't fall in, alright? I mean, I'd have to dive in to get you!"

"You wouldn't! I could pull myself out of the river just fine."

"Well, if I fell in, I wouldn't mind you rescuing me."

"You'd probably drown before I could get to you."

"Maybe so. But what if you bumped your head or something? What then, Deedee?"

"Shut up! Siggy!"

"You shut up!"

"Well, you could try letting me go, first of all."

"Oh. Uh…right." I guess he forgot he was holding me. I didn't really mean it, though. His arms were so nice to be in. He was holding me around the middle, with his hands interlaced behind my back. I was sort of leaning back, so my hips were pressed against his. But my head wasn't close enough to his for me to dare to kiss his nose. He let go of me and I didn't fall (I can stand on my own, for heaven's sake), but I was kind of disappointed. It really was very nice to be held by him. Is it really so bad that I liked the feeling of his arms around me? I wonder if he liked holding me, if he liked that my hips were pressed against his and that our legs were all tangled up together. Maybe he more just felt like he'd helped me. I mean…I don't think he'd love me the way I love him. I'm just not that lucky.

I might as well relish what little I can get. The accidental hand brushes, the times he'll hold me just for safety, if he ever kisses me just because I'm the only girl around to kiss. I'll never get anything better than that, and I know it. Why bother pretending? I'm just not that sort of girl and I'm not that lucky. Anyways, he could have any girl he wants. Why would he choose me?

Mother gave me a lecture on what I should look for in a suitor today. It was basically someone who'll own me properly. Well, I don't want to be owned and I don't want a man like that anyway. Heaven forbid a woman own herself!

I'm getting worked up again and I really should just go to bed. I'm quite tired and when I get worked up like this, I feel like yelling or throwing something. I feel like fighting. I feel like I need to fight for what I feel must be right. And even though Mother says it's wrong, I feel like it's not and I get very upset.

I'm going to go to bed now. I hope I can figure something out by tomorrow.

13 November 1611

Simonn is such a kind friend! I feel like a horrible friend compared to him. He's so kind about listening and everything. Mostly because today, I really needed to talk to someone about Sigmun and Simonn said he'd listen. So I kind of blurted everything, including me overanalyzing every single thing he does. Except the dreams. Those are personal.

"No offense…but you sound like a lovesick twelve-year-old."

"Shut up!"

"You do, though. You're obsessing."

"I just think he's really sweet and really smart and funny and handsome!"

"Obsessing." He drew out the word and I know it was frustrate me.

"Shut up!"

"Look, you could keep obsessing. Or you could just tell him. You know, like a normal person?"

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"Because he doesn't like me back! Do I look like I was born yesterday?"

"Yes, you look like an infant." He's so sarcastic. "Dianna. I know I'm not exactly a romantic genius, but I think you should just tell him."

"I can't, though! I try to and I can't!"

"Yes you can. Just go up to him and kiss him."

"No!"

"Yes!"

"I physically cannot!"

"It's psychological!"

"It would be humiliating!"

"So is this conversation!"

"What do you mean?"

"I am trying to give you, one of my best friends, advice on how to kiss my other best friend, you think maybe that feels a bit weird?"

"Fair point."

"Exactly."

"Look. I don't know anything beyond what you've told me, but I think if you told Sigmun, you'd be fine."

"Are you sure?"

"I don't give advice unless I'm sure. What sort of friend do you think I am?"

"Thanks, Simonn."

"Any time."

"That reminds me…Hannah?"

"Shut up!"

"If you're going to tell me to just go up to him and kiss him—"

"Hi guys!" Sigmun interrupted. "What's going on? Who's kissing who?"

"I'm trying to talk sense into Simonn," I said.

"Excuse me, I was trying to talk sense into you!"

"I am perfectly sensible!"

"What is this about?" Sigmun interrupted. I stomped on Simonn's foot before he could say anything and said, "Simonn won't listen to me about just giving Hannah some flowers."

"I agree with Dianna! Just get her flowers, Simonn. Otherwise you're a hypocrite!"

"Am not!"

"You are!" (I'm not sure what Simonn would be hypocritical about.)

"I just…I can't. Can you guys please drop it?"

"Okay, fine," I said. I could tell he was actually getting upset and there's nothing nice about making someone you care about upset, so I dropped it. "C'mon. The eddy froze over; let's go skating."

"Fine by me!" Sigmun grinned. His hair bounced as he did and it was very charming. "Well, come on! It'll be dark by the time we get there at this rate!"

We skated around till late, then Simonn and I went home. I thought I caught Sigmun staring at me, but I'm probably wishing it into existence. I could also feel Simonn rolling his eyes at me, but I just gave him my most withering glare. I'm good at that.

Oh, and Mother tried to talk me into meeting this other man, George or something. Maybe she's given up on Patrik? I still don't want to marry him, whoever he is. Heaven forbid I choose who I marry.

14 November 1611

Mother has been so tense and I almost wish Father would come home just so she'd stop acting like this. She seems to have given up on her current needlepoint in favor of knitting, which she only does before Father comes home. I caught a glimpse of her needlepoint and it's her and another figure. I don't know who the other one is; it doesn't really have a face. Mother never does needlepoint when she gets in this state, so it won't be done until much later.

We read some Greek history today. Sigmun loves history to the point where it's kind of funny and very endearing. He's also the best at Latin and Greek, so he always reads those books. I prefer languages I can talk to people in. To each her or his own.

Oh, that reminds me: I have to make a shopping list again. It's one of the weeks when Mother sends me for fabric. I don't make a list when it's just food. I know what to buy and how to choose food so Mother will make proper, filling meals. If Mother chose the food, we'd eat like birds.

Shopping list: onions, carrots, salt, nine yards black calico, two spools thread (white and blue), two yards blue gingham, four yards olive green fabric (whatever's cheapest), one pair of shoelaces, one pound lard, and four colors embroidery thread (red, brown, black, and blue).

15 November 1611

Today Simonn and I had to look for Sigmun, because Dolora said he was in the house somewhere but she didn't know where. Simonn checked his bedroom while I looked around the living room. I checked behind one of the bookshelves, and he was wedged between it and wall with one of the books of romance poetry. He was reading it just like he reads Latin to himself: mouthing the words as his eyes speed over them, taking in everything.

"Sigmun?"

He jumped about a mile in the air and slammed the book shut, trying to hide it behind his back. "H-Hi, Dianna!"

"What're you reading?" I teased.

"Just…some poetry! Good poetry. Because it's good literature…"

"Can I see?"

"N-No!"

"I've read all the romance books, too, Sigmun."

He blushed a painful-looking color of red. "You know about that?"

"We both do," Simonn said, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. "It's fine, Siggy."

"I read them, too," I affirmed. "It's fine."

"I don't read them, but I don't really care, either."

"Okay. I guess that's not too bad. But…uh…would you mind not telling anyone else?"

"Jeez, what sort of jerk do you think I am?" Simonn said, rolling his eyes.

"I wouldn't tell," I said, rolling my eyes at Simonn. "Come on, let's read some other book of poetry."

"I call choosing," Simonn said. "If you guys choose, we'll end up with one of the bodice-rippers."

"What?!" Sigmun kind of shouted. His whole face was scarlet still and that didn't help.

"S'what my mother calls them. The ones with the damsels in distress on the cover and the shirtless guys. I dunno, I think damsels in distress are boring."

"They are. But I'm a sucker for that sort of romance," I grinned. Sigmun was still red as a rose all over, but I thought I saw him nod.

16 November 1611

Mother gave me a new dress she sewed today. I was rather happy, except that once I put it on, it was ill-fitting (she must've guessed at my measurements) and it outlined everything she doesn't like about me. The sleeves were to my wrist and tight, and the collar was up to my neck and also tight. Not to mention itchy. The waist was too small and the skirt too long. And the top was too big around my chest, which was just awful because I feel really guilty for growing that way and I wish I wouldn't. Is it odd to wish your own feelings away? I have a feeling I shouldn't have to, but I do anyways.

Well, at any rate, I took the dress to my room and altered it to fit because I quite like the fabric. I was tempted to hem it up to my knee, but that might've been a bad idea. I just cut the sleeves to be cap sleeves and the neckline to be more comfortable. I took the waist out a bit and hemmed up the skirt to my ankles. And I did fix the top so it fit properly, because I actually do have a chest and I'd rather my dresses fit it. I only wear dresses sometimes, anyways; usually, I prefer shirts and skirts, only because they're easier to wash and to wear and my bodice still fits over them.

We practiced French today by saying random stuff to each other out loud, with Dolora correcting sometimes (because French is her second language). We've been studying French for about a year now, and I think we're close to knowing it well enough to move on. The idea is to learn enough of lots of language to get by in another country. My goal is to be fluent in all the languages we learn. My friends might be able to get by, but I want to be fluent!

As it turns out, Sigmun can tell me that he lost the glasses that he doesn't wear and that he needs to find his way to the mill in French. Simonn can ask for directions to the local pastry shop (pâtisserie) and tell me he likes to read physics books. Honestly, I think I'm probably the best at French. That's yet another thing Mother wouldn't approve of.

Oh, one more thing about today: we were sitting around and I was about to go home because it was close to dinner when Sigmun tapped me on the shoulder and said, "Dianna? Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, sure."

"So…uh…"

"What is it?" I didn't have much time to get home before it got dark and I'd have to stay (which I didn't want to do because I left my journal at home), or it would still be light but when I got home, Mother would kill me.

"I was just wondering…"

"Yes?" I was getting kind of nervous and I don't know why.

"Uh…do you…um…I really…I really l-li—"

"Sigmun! Can you get me the aloe?" Dolora called suddenly

"Uh…yes, Mama!" he called. "Uh…never mind."

"Alright. See you tomorrow!"

"See you," he said. I wonder what that was all about?

17 November 1611

I was early again today. I feel awful again, but I heard them talking. This time, it actually was an accident. Anyways, here's the conversation.

"You were too afraid?!"

"Shut up! Have you ever had a huge confession hanging over your head while there's a gorgeous girl staring at you and you know you're about to throw away every single positive emotion you've ever harbored? It's a lot of pressure to put on someone!"

"You said you would! You swore you would!"

"I was under a lot of pressure! Do you have any idea what a girl that sort of eyes can do to you?"

"What are you taking about?"

"Have you ever tried to think when she's looking at you with those eyes?"

"Yes, and I don't find it all that hard!"

"You have no idea what it's really like! I can't even think when she's looking at me! And when she talks…I get so tongue-tied that I think I might never speak again!"

"You're so lovesick. Just tell her!"

"I can't, okay? I can't."

"Okay, you won't listen to me? Alright, who else would give my exact advice?"

"I dunno. Try nobody?" I have sarcastic best friends.

"Dolora would! Remember I came here way early last week and you were moping around and Dolora told you that you should 'make sure that you're not concealing anything from anyone who's very important to you'?"

"That…that's different!"

"And Sumner! Didn't he tell you that the best thing to do is always just tell the girl?"

"Maybe he did, but he's all confident and stuff!"

"Neolla! She laughed her head off at you and then she told you that you should just tell her! Everyone agrees with me!"

"I'm not brave enough to do something that stupid!"

"Look. Do you just want me to tell her? Because I can actually think when 'she's looking at me with those eyes'."

"Shut up!" There was a pause. "I'll tell her myself."

"When?"

"When I'm ready!"

"Also see: never."

"Look, it's just really hard, okay? It's really hard to talk when she's giving me that curious little look and she's got those big eyes and that gorgeous smile and…it's really hard!"

"You think I don't know what that's like? I'm serious, you have absolutely nothing to lose if you tell her."

"How do you know that?"

"I just do!"

"So I should just tell her?"

"Yes!"

"Thank you for the advice even though it's kind of useless!"

"You're welcome!"

I sighed and looked up. "Are they shouting about something or other again?" Dolora asked rhetorically. She was gathering up her medical things before leaving.

"Mm-hmm."

"Well, I wouldn't blame you if you yelled at them a bit."

"Yeah…I think I'll go do that."

"Alright. Tell Sigmun dinner is at seven."

"Okay, Dolora."

"Now, don't go outside today. It's far too cold as it is and the wind's coming from the north. And there's a new book on the table on German history if you're interested."

"Thanks, Dolora."

"Any time, Dianna dear. Now go on, I'm sure they're about to start shouting again soon."

I smiled and jogged upstairs, where Sigmun and Simonn were sitting in Sigmun's room. "Hey guys!"

"Hey, Dianna."

"Hi, Deedee." Simonn said.

"I'm not letting it get to me…Simmie!"

"I hate you."

"Yeah right."

"Hey, guys?" Sigmun said. "Dolora got a new book on German history today, wanna read it?"

"Yeah, sure," Simonn said.

So we got started on that book and I'm left to wonder who on Earth that girl is who Sigmun gets all tongue-tied around. I thought it was Neolla, but I'm not sure now. She always wears these strange tinted glasses because they distract from her feminine features and she's been practicing for Yangsley's, so the whole thing about her eyes doesn't make sense. Anyways, she never looks curious. Who could it be? Who could possibly be that lucky, to have his heart?

I sound like Joan or Elizabeth or Mary. I said I wouldn't do this! I swore I wouldn't! Oh, fabulous, here I am again, wishing away my own feelings. Is there nothing that'll make my emotions feel like the right ones?

18 November 1611

I seem to have misplaced my hair ribbon again. I always loose my hair ribbons, which is annoying mostly because I need to keep my hair out of my face. I have very thick, very messy hair and it's hard to keep it from falling into my eyes. Though I prefer it that way when I walk around the village, I'd rather be able to see when I'm hiking or picking berries or reading.

It was very, very cold today, but it didn't snow. The sky was gray, the color of fabric with no dye added, but no snow. There was some rain, but late at night, after Mother went to bed and I was sitting up with a candle and writing. That's not important, though.

We stayed inside today and we all sat really close to the fire to keep warm. Dolora wasn't home at all and Sigmun said one of the women in the village was giving birth and Dolora wouldn't be home for a while. So I asked if he was alright for dinner and everything and he looked at me all funny and said, "I can cook, thank you very much."

"I'm just making sure you're okay."

"Thanks. I'm fine."

"Good."

Simonn rolled his eyes. "We can both sew and cook and stuff, Dianna. I can operate competently in the world."

"I worry about my friends, like a nice person."

"Well, you don't have to worry about me," Sigmun said. "I can cook my own dinner."

"Me too," Simonn said. "And I can sew my own clothes."

"I can, too," Sigmun said. "And knit, and do needlepoint."

"You can do needlepoint?" Simonn asked.

"Yeah."

"So can I," I added.

"I'm not coordinated enough for that."

"I could try to teach you."

"No thanks. I don't like poking my fingers with needles."

"Fair point." I don't like needlepoint either.

"So…the point is that I can take care of myself when Mama is in town. I have since I was little," Sigmun said. "Anyways, I'll just make some stew or something. D'you guys want to stay?"

"Sure," I said.

"Sounds good to me," Simonn said.

So we stayed for dinner and it turns out Sigmun can cook pretty well. I guess baking is just our collective weak spot. I wonder if other people would think it's odd that my friends who are boys can cook and sew and knit and stuff. I think it's good. I mean, I think it's important for women and men to be able to sew and everything, just for the sake of supporting oneself before getting married. Anyways, if I were married, I wouldn't do all the cooking and sewing and household chores, anymore than he would do all the money-making work. I know Sigmun wouldn't be a husband who would do all the money making or make me do all the cooking; I mean, he just felt the need to prove to us that he could cook and bragged about being able to sew. He'd be nicer than that.

19 November 1611

I could tell Dolora was exhausted today from the way she knitted, all slow and missing stitches. So we just read today and didn't do anything that would make her stressed. I care a lot about Dolora and I'd rather not worry her.

We read about Prussian history today and it was very interesting. Sigmun got all passionate and interested like he does and I will always find that adorable and endearing. I just love the way his eyes light up and he smiles so wide and he talks so excitedly. I think I was probably blushing red as a rose, except less pretty. I wonder if he noticed.

20 November 1611

Mother started nagging today, even more than usual. It was about my hair. I can quote exactly what she said.

"Your hair is getting too long and too messy and you don't even take the time to brush it out anymore. How are you supposed to get married when you don't even brush your hair? How can you take care of a man when you can't take care of yourself? And do you ever even think about cutting it, at least some? You look like a prostitute with your hair like that! Not to mention that it's ugly, that awful brown color. You could let me dye it, you know. Maybe make you a bit more marriable."

"Mother, I like my hair." That is, my hair is the only part of me I don't mind.

"You shouldn't. It's awful. You really need to do something about it. Try smoothing it or cutting it or thinning it; I could use hair thinner."

"Mother, that burns like fire!" It doesn't even work. I asked Dolora, to be sure, and she said it was a scam.

"Doesn't matter. If you're going to find an acceptable husband, you better fix yourself up. Even if I could arrange a marriage with Patrik, he wouldn't want to marry you because you're so ugly and unfeminine and clumsy and outspoken and disobedient! At least let me fix your hair!"

I gave up after that. Mother kept talking, but I tuned her out and let her lecture on. I know what she said and she's right; why does she have to keep saying it?

21 November 1611

Funny thing today. I heard only a few sentences of Sigmun and Simonn's conversation when they were in the kitchen for a few seconds.

"Look. Why do you want to tell her?"

"Because she thinks no one loves her!"

"Well, that's dumb. We obviously care about her."

"That's not the point. You've heard the way her mother talks to her. I'd think no one loves me either! I just want her to know someone loves her."

"Then does it matter if she loves you back or not?"

"I guess not…"

"Then tell her, for heaven's sake!"

"I'm just scared she won't want to be friends anymore!"

"Are you stupid?! Of course she will!"

"How do you know?"

"I just do. Okay? I just do."

I still don't know who this girl is he's talking about. I don't know anyone who feels completely unloved. Well, I feel unloved, but then I am unloved. No, I'm unlovable. I also don't know who he'd be worried about losing. I think it'd be crazy to stop being friends with someone for any reason unless they were a bad person or you just couldn't stand them to the point where you felt bad. Or if it's a friendship that's just making you miserable. I mean, why do anything that makes you miserable?

22 November 1611

I have never wanted children as much as I do right now. Apparently the woman and the child both lived (the woman who gave birth a few days ago), because I saw them both walking around the village. The little one (I think it was a boy) was such a cute little thing. I just…I really want children. I know that that's something women are supposed to do, but outside of what I'm supposed to want, I want children. I think I always have. I want love, and I want to have children, and I like to sew, and there are other feminine things I want and like. But there are also things I like and want that women aren't supposed to like and want. I don't know.

Well, anyways, it was rather warm today, so we put on our cloaks and went outside to walk around. It was a lovely day and I'm absolutely positive that Sigmun's hand brushed mine more than once and I felt him almost take my hand. Why is he doing this? Is he teasing me? What if he knows how I feel and he's messing with my head? I don't think he'd do something that mean, but…he's a boy and I don't quite know how boys decide what seems mean (it appears rather arbitrary to me). Maybe he thinks it's a joke? I think if that were true, my heart would break. I don't treat romance as a joke as a rule and I'm scared that he doesn't know that. Do boys think about breaking hearts? Some women certainly don't and now I'm worried he's going to break my heart for fun.

No, I shouldn't be thinking about this. He's nice! I've known him since we were little. He wouldn't do something like that.

Would he?

23 November 1611

What a day. I got my bleeding today and that wouldn't be a problem only it started while I was at Sigmun's. Considering that it's been happening for a few months now (I started just normal, at least compared to my friends), I suppose I'm lucky this hasn't happened before. We were sitting around the fire and I just suddenly felt like someone was stabbing my stomach and I kind of screamed.

"OH FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE I AM GOING TO STAB SOMETHING!"

"Uh…Dianna?" Sigmun asked, and he sounded a little scared. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I said testily. I was very irritated. Simonn just looked rather scared and unnerved.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Hold on a second." I went to find Dolora (she was out of the room) because I needed another woman to help me out. Dolora smiled understandingly and said, "That was you yelling? I know how you feel." One of these days I'll have to explain to them why this happens and I think that will be the most awkward day of my life. Maybe Dolora will instead, because I think I might not be able to do that.

"Would you like some painkiller, Dianna dear?"

"Yes please." I made a few absorbent things out of old linens Mother never noticed I took. She'd be so mad if she knew I'd started my bleeding. I don't know what's wrong with it; every single woman and girl I know who's older than eighteen has their bleeding. (Except pregnant women and a few who just start late.) I don't know why Mother thinks it's so wrong. I can't do anything about it except take whatever mix of herbs Dolora sells to women in the village (it's how she makes a good deal of her money) and hope it'll be over soon. I don't know why Dolora won't let me pay. I tried once and she gave me this funny look and told me not to worry about it.

I had to go home after that. I hope my friends aren't worried.

24 November 1611

Father should be coming home any day now. Mother hardly moved from the front room today and I know her nerves must be stretched to breaking. I can't help but feel bad for her; it must be awful being left behind like this. And she's stuck with me. I know that Mother only loves Father and that I'm a burden and even though I'll admit I resent her for that, I do feel sorry for her that Father doesn't seem to care.

We tried drawing again today. I still didn't get anywhere, but Sigmun did (sort of). Simonn had Sigmun and I sit still (a difficult feat for me) and drew us. He took an awful long time about it, too. He drew me reading a book (because I got bored and picked up a book after a while) and Sigmun staring off into space (he ended up just kind of staring off through the window right behind me). They were excellent drawings and I had to ask.

"Simonn, did you ever do drawing before this?"

"Uh…yeah. I've been doing it for years now, since…since I was seven. Eight, maybe."

"And you never showed us!" Sigmun said.

"Didn't seem that important."

"Are you kidding me? These are amazing!" I said. "Hey…you should draw yourself."

"I couldn't."

"You could."

"You definitely could," Sigmun agreed.

"Fine. And then…I've got an idea. I'll tell you guys tomorrow."

"What is it?" Sigmun asked.

"I'll tell you tomorrow!"

"Pleeeeeeeease?"

"Just…what if I drew all of us? Together? Dolora too."

"That would be amazing!" I enthused.

"How long would we have to sit still?" Sigmun asked.

"Uh…dunno. A while."

"Okay. Well…why don't we start today?"

"Sure, I guess," Simonn said.

"What, d'you think you're not good at drawing?" I asked. "Because you are."

Simonn looked down and scratched the back of his leg with his shoe. "Thanks."

"It's true," Sigmun said.

"Fine. All of you in front of the fireplace."

"Alright." Sigmun talked to Dolora and we all sat in front of the fireplace. Simonn stared for a second and started drawing and then he suddenly stopped. "Sigmun, put your arm around Dianna."

"What? Why?"

"I'm posing you. I do this with my siblings all the time. Dianna, a bit closer to Sigmun…good. And both of you closer to Dolora. Leave space there, next to Sigmun…good. I'm drawing myself in there." We stayed that way for a long, long time, until it was almost dark. I could feel Sigmun's arm around my shoulders the whole time and I felt like my insides were all in knots. I wonder why Simonn did that? He either did that on purpose for some reason or he really was just posing us. I wouldn't know. I don't know anything about drawing. But Simonn finished in time and it looks almost like real life, except without color. I think it'd be fun to do one every year. Kind of like a family portrait. The kind Simonn's parents did once (and almost left him out of) and Sigmun and Dolora can't afford and Mother never does because I'm not really her daughter.

A family at heart. How odd.

25 November 1611

If Father doesn't come home tomorrow, I guess we'll have to assume he's dead. I know I should be upset about that, because he is my father (sort of), but I just don't care about him all that much.

Sigmun and Simonn could tell I was tense, but when they asked and I said that I didn't want to talk about it because I simply hate talking about my father. He's not even really my father. Not by blood, not at heart. I wonder what it's like, having a father. I wonder what fathers are supposed to do. For that matter, I wonder what mothers are supposed to do. My mother criticizes me constantly, but Dolora is encouraging and I don't know which one a mother ought to be like.

Sigmun gave me a hair ribbon today and I am determined to get this ribbon to tie into my mess of hair. When I was little, my friends told me I had more hair than head. I don't know why he gave me a ribbon, and I certainly don't know if he meant it as a romantic gesture or not. Probably not. I'm a little scared Mother will figure out who the ribbon is from and make me give it to her, because I really want to hold onto this one. I know it's not good for me to think this way, like he might ever love me back, but I really can't help it.

One last thing about today: Mother tried to give me a lecture on how to fix my body shape, but I ran to my room. My body is my least favorite part of myself because I hate my shape and I just wish Mother would stop making it worse.

26 November 1611

Father came home today. I left as soon as I could. He shoved a little wooden toy for a five-year-old boy into my hand and said happy birthday to me. I said thank you and I wanted to ask if he even knew my name because I doubt it. I bet if I asked he'd say my name was Mary Sailor (because that's his last name and the most obvious name for a girl) or maybe John Sailor (because I'm not sure he knows I'm a girl). And I'd have to tell him no, it's Dianna. Dianna Leijon. Sixteen. A girl. Don't you remember?

I suppose I was rather quiet today because Simonn asked me if I was alright and I said yes, I was fine. And of course Sigmun didn't believe me, so he kept bugging me until I told them my father was home and I didn't really have to say anything else because they know how it is when my father is home.

I came home with the flowers from Sigmun today (still every day) and Father saw and he asked me, "What're those? Where were you all day?" (seven consecutive words, a record) and I lied to him the way I do with Mother. I told him I work for the seamstress and the flowers were just some I'd seen on the way home. Then I ran to my room and I skipped dinner (until I went downstairs later when they were in bed). And now it's like every time Father comes home and he shares a bed with Mother and I can't sleep. I just want to go to sleep. I just want to sleep.

27 November 1611

Father left today around noon (I think). Mother was sad and I'm not happy about that, but I just feel so lonely whenever Father visits. It's just…I suppose it's how Sigmun feels about his birth family. Kind of abandoned. Like no one cares about me anymore, not even my parents. I know it's not true, because I've got Sigmun and Simonn and Dolora and all my friends in the village, but there's something about being left behind by my own parents.

I wish I had a family. I mean a blood family. It just feels so lonely without a normal family like everyone else.

28 November 1611

Today was an interesting day of a sort. We were sitting around, reading a book about dancing, and I asked Sigmun and Simonn if they knew how to dance.

"C'mon, don't tell me no one ever taught you ballroom dancing."

"Well, I never had cause to learn," Sigmun said.

"My parents are busy," Simonn said flatly. He's probably never had time to learn dancing. Mother made me learn dancing when I was little and I never forgot. I don't like forgetting things I've learned.

"Well, I'll teach you. Stand up."

"What if I don't want to learn?" Simonn asked grumpily.

"You'll need to know dancing at some point," I said.

"She's right," Sigmun agreed.

So I taught them the minuet. It's one of the fancy dances no one ever really does (we all know the fun dances on festival days in the village and such), but it's good to know. It's also ridiculously hard. I'm not going into detail because it would take forever!

While we were dancing, I had to be the woman for both Simonn and Sigmun and the funny thing is, Sigmun was really good and I was about to have Simonn practice when he suddenly started messing up and doing the wrong moves and everything. So I had to practice with him more so he'd at least be decent and I know it's awful but I kind of liked it. I saw Simonn giving me a sort of raised-eyebrow type look, so I stuck my tongue out at him (I hope Sigmun didn't notice). I'd swear Simonn knows something I don't and it's very irritating.

Anyways, they both learned the dance well enough and now if we ever get invited to dance with the queen (as if), at least we won't trip when we try to dance.

29 November 1611

Mother was nagging today. I know what she wants me to be: rather short, pale, scarlet-red lips and cheeks, wears peach and gray and orange and a slimming bodice, busty but not too much, wide hips, perfumed, fresh-faced, good at sewing and cooking and needlepoint, a mother and wife and no one else. Mother wants me to be owned by my husband and I don't want that for myself. I'm not what she wants me to be. I'm not what anyone wants me to be.

We studied some Russian today and I have to say, the first thing I need to learn is how to write the alphabet. But I'm exhausted, so I'm just going to sleep. I've been at least sleeping through most of my dreams recently, including the very good ones I don't like to talk about and the very bad ones I can't talk about.

I really need some rest.

30 November 1611

Mother seems to have picked up her needlepoint again, and if I'm not mistaken, the second figure is Father. He looks much younger than I've ever seen him and I think Mother is depicting the past they once had, before the recession.

They always say the recession turned everything upside down. I know it's why I was adopted and why Father became a trader (traders makes more money and the economy wasn't so bad other places). I know it's why Dolora left the city and why a lot of my friends in the village don't have much. But I'm not really sure how it turned everything upside down. It seems to me that most of the adults I talk to say it's mostly the same. Then again, I was an infant. What do I know?

It snowed again today, I think about half a foot. I think when it snows a bit more, we can have a snowball fight or something childish and very fun like that. I don't see what's wrong with being childish sometimes; it's more fun and honestly, I think if adults were childish and had fun more often, they'd be happier.

1 December 1611

December is my least favorite month of the year. Except maybe March (it's rainy and cold and unpleasant). I like the December weather, but I prefer it when it's not so tainted. I can't enjoy the glistening snow and the frosted trees and the painted sunsets because I hate December so much.

Mother forgot about the candles last Sunday and now she's blaming me. I didn't know that we were supposed to light one of the candles last Sunday. How was I supposed to know that when she acts like looking at the calendar is a sin?

Dolora's set out her four candles and I know it's odd, but I like hers better than Mother's. Dolora also has five, so there's that. But that's not important. Mother says the colors are frivolous and she gets the wax-colored ones. Mother thinks everything is frivolous.

Anyways, I can tell Sigmun and Simonn are getting excited (though Simonn pretends he only keeps track of the days for his siblings) and I like seeing them happy, though it leaves me somewhere in the dust. Or the snow, at any rate.

We studied some physics today and it still confuses me. F equals m times a? I don't understand it. What's the difference between mass and weight anyways? And negative acceleration? Physics is not my strong point.

2 December 1611

We studied more Russian today and as far as I can tell, it's easier than some others but harder than Italian. Then again, most everything's harder than Italian. I don't really mind, though. I like languages.

Simonn tried to get us to study more physics, but since we studied that yesterday, I was able to persuade him that Russian would be better. I mean, I rather like pure math (algebra and geometry and the like), but that sort of applied math is confusing. I can solve an equation faster than Sigmun (though not Simonn), as long as it's not trying to match quantities to letters to something else.

Mother told me that she wanted to meet the seamstress I'm working for. Unless I can come up with a very, very clever way around that, I am in a lot of trouble. If she finds out I'm lying, I'll probably get at least a slap and she might not let me leave the house for who knows how long.

Maybe I'll admit I'm just a little scared.

3 December 1611

Oh my goodness, I almost forgot! Mariek's mother is a seamstress since her father died. Mariek's definitely clever enough to persuade her mother to pretend for the sake of a friend. I'll find Mariek tomorrow and tell my mother the seamstress was sick again today. I hope she believes me. Mother doesn't believe me often.

It's Saturday, so I better remind Mother about the candles tomorrow or she'll get mad again. Mother hates me enough without me giving her more reasons.

We studied another chapter of that novel today and it was fun because the three of us picked apart every line of dialogue and description just for the fun of it. I wonder sometimes about school, because I think analyzing a book that way would be no fun if you'd get in trouble for doing it wrong. How can there be a wrong way to pick apart a book? A book or a poem or even a line of music can mean something different for everyone, and saying one interpretation is more "right" than another just doesn't seem right to me. I've always loved reading and learning and I think if someone was making me learn, it just wouldn't be as engaging and honestly…I'd probably know a lot less.

4 December 1611

It's really beautiful when Sigmun's eyes catch the light just right and they turn that vibrant shade of red for just a second. He's stunning. And it hurts my heart to think he'll never even look at me twice. No one would, really. I mean, he's clever and he's brave and he's funny and he's so gorgeous and…he's such a good person and I can think of no reason he'd settle for me. I probably won't get married at all, simply because I doubt I'll ever find anyone willing to marry me. I don't know why my friends always tell me not to think that way; it's just a statement of fact.

I reminded Mother about the candles and she glared at me and lit the first two. Hope and peace. If only I had some of that in my house and in my heart.

5 December 1611

Simonn kept pinching Sigmun today and I have no idea what that was about. Sigmun actually looked vaguely nauseous and it reminded me of how I feel when I think about telling him. I swear Simonn's got some sort of secret agenda that he's not telling us. When he wasn't bugging Sigmun, he was shooting me these raised-eyebrow looks that said, "Well? What are you waiting for?" After a few times just rolling my eyes, I gave Simonn my best death glare. He rolled his eyes and stopped. What does Simonn know? I don't know if it's just me, but I feel like boys in general have become a lot more confusing since around when I turned sixteen.

I saw Mariek today (she was busy yesterday) and she said she'd talk to her mother and I could bring my mother over in the afternoon. I sincerely hope Mother believes the whole thing because I'd rather be able to leave the house and not get any bruises (my mother can slap very hard). My lie gets more complex every minute.

6 December 1611

I am the luckiest girl in the world. Mariek's mother agreed to pretend to be the seamstress I work for and Mother believed her! I'm safe, at least for now. I just really don't want to give up my learning and my time with my best friends. Mother told me women aren't supposed to read and I just can't bring myself to believe her because since learning to read, my life has grown in include whole other worlds and I don't see how that's bad.

I think that's what really gets me about Joan and Mary and Elizabeth and the girls like them. They could be so smart if only they tried.

7 December 1611

We read a bit of that physics book again today, but I was tired because I stayed up late altering my good dress (the one Mother makes me wear on holidays or when Father comes home) to fit. So I kind of fell asleep on the couch while Sigmun sat in the chair and Simonn leaned against the bookshelf by the fireplace. I'm sure Simonn was rolling his eyes at me, but between my dreams and the altering I have to do (because Mother's stopped letting me make my own clothes), I'm almost always tired these days.

Speaking of dreams, I had another one of the dreams with the two girls I don't really recognize, but I should. I have the very good dreams almost every night, to the point where it's not really worth mentioning. Anyways, I had the presence of mind to look around and I was in a brightly-lit place with no ceiling and no walls, as far as I could tell. The older girl seemed to be holding her child (I certainly think it's her child) a little less tense than she has before, but the younger girl still looked guarded. They're not alike enough to be older and younger versions of each other, and they couldn't be me because the younger girl is my age and she knows the older girl; I don't. The older girl has much paler skin and greener eyes and darker hair than me and she's also taller than I'll ever be. Not to mention both of them are prettier than I ever was or will be. I can see sadness in both their eyes and I wonder what has happened to them, because they seem like nice people. Especially the older girl; she keeps trying to talk to me, like there's something she must tell me. I want to ask her who she is, how she knows me, and why she keeps trying to talk to me. I appreciate it, but I'm a little confused. Why? Who? I have more questions than answers, of course. I'm curious about a lot of things and right now, this is topping the list.

8 December 1611

We did algebra today and we made it a game to see who could answer first. Dolora checked all of our work because she was home all day today, which happens once a month. (She calls it her rest day and I think it's the day she starts her bleeding.) I mean, normally Dolora's home for about half a day or a less, and out for the whole day twice a week. And when she's home, she's making herb mixes to sell, working on new remedies, cooking, patching clothes, and reading. How does anyone do all that at once?

Anyways, Simonn obviously won, but Sigmun and I about tied (I was ahead by six) and we all got them mostly right. I think it's not too hard to do algebra, because it makes sense. You just have to move numbers around the right ways and it all makes sense.

Sigmun is so handsome when he's concentrating. He has this look of complete focus and one of his hands threads through his hair to support his head and he just can't be distracted. His writing that seems so chaotic suddenly resolves itself into these neat columns and rows and it's so nice to look at. I wonder if he noticed me glancing at him. And when he finishes a problem, he looks up with this perfect little grin on his face and it makes my cheeks flush pink.

I'd almost swear he was looking at me today. Once, when I finished a problem early, I looked up and I thought I saw his eyes catch mine and flash red for just a second, but then he looked back down at the paper and I guess I probably imagined it. I'm just wishing the whole thing into existence.

9 December 1611

I wish I had a sister. I wish I had an older sister who knew something about boys. I wish I had a younger sister who smiled a lot because she didn't know how awful people can be. Sometimes I wish I had an older brother who'd tease me but he'd be nice about it, or a younger brother who'd always want to play because he'd be full of energy. I don't care what Simonn says about how annoying his siblings are; I can tell he cares about them and I wish I had something like that. His brothers are ten, eight, and seven, and his sister is five. I don't know if I'd like having a sibling who's five, or having a lot of siblings, but I'd like to think the house would feel less lonely with someone else in it.

The reason I particularly wish for a sibling right now is that Simonn's mother is going to have her baby in about three months and Simonn's been more nervous than usual and I know it's because of the brother and two sisters who didn't live. A lot of little ones don't make it past five or six and we all know it.

We studied French history today and it was quite interesting. I'd like to go to France someday; it sounds beautiful. But I know I'll never be able to afford travel; only nobility can really travel. Oh, the irony.

10 December 1611

Tomorrow is Sunday again and I'm sure the candle is for joy. It's the third one, right? Hope, peace, joy, love. That's how I remember them. Everyone celebrates Advent around here and I don't even know what it means. Someone once told me the name means "waiting", but I don't know if that was a dream or real. Well, I suppose I am waiting. I'm waiting for the whole thing to pass so I can forget how I don't have a family for another year.

11 December 1611

We studied Prussian history again today and I didn't fall asleep because I didn't dream at all last night. I don't really know what to make of that. I nearly always dream, and I usually remember my dreams. I wonder what that was about.

Simonn was pretty upset about something and I asked him and he said he had a dream that his new sibling was a girl and she died when she was three from consumption. I told him it was just a nightmare (I know a thing or two about nightmares) and he said it wasn't.

"Simonn, it was just a bad dream."

"No, you don't understand! They're never wrong! Never!"

"What do you mean?" Sigmun asked.

"Every time my mother's going to have a baby, I have a dream about them living or dying and they're never wrong!"

"Wait, what?" I asked.

"I…I didn't mean to say that," Simonn said. "I mean…shoot." He looked like he wanted to evaporate on the spot. "I just…I have dreams and they…they always come true."

"About other stuff, too?" I asked.

"Only life-and-death stuff…and not always, I mean, about once a year or so. Maybe twice. I can't read the future or something."

"Wow," Sigmun said. "Doesn't it drive you mad?"

"Of course! I dream about my brothers and sisters dying. It drives me absolutely crazy!" Simonn sounded rather crazy. He looked like he was about ready to pull out all his honey-blond hair.

"Calm down, Simonn," I said. "It's okay."

"It's not okay! I'm going to have another little sister and she's going to die and I can't just tell my parents, can I? I can't just walk up to them and say, 'Hey, you know that kid you're going to have in three months? She'll live to be three, then die of consumption. Bye!' I have to watch the whole thing happen! It's not okay!"

"Simonn," Sigmun said. "Maybe it was just a dream. And even if it's not…you've got three years to be happy about a new sister. Three years. That's plenty of time to change things."

"No it's not! Trying to change it never works! I'm just going to watch them love and lose and I know and I can't do anything!"

"Simonn…why didn't you ever tell us? We could've done something. We could've helped, maybe," I said.

"It's just something else that makes me a freak of nature, along with the two different eyes. You know my parents almost killed me when I was a baby? I don't need to give them another reason!"

"Simonn, it's alright. It's alright. Deep breaths. Come on, in and out. In…and out. In…and out," Sigmun said soothingly. I know Sigmun's seem people treated for being hysterical like this. "Calm down. In and out, breathe easy. There you go. Sit down and I'll get a glass of water."

Sigmun made Simonn sit in a chair and I stayed there because Simonn's never really been that honest in that way ever before. He always tries to hide, even from us. I think it's because he doesn't want anyone to know how much it hurts watching little siblings die.

Sigmun came back with a glass of water and Simonn drank it all in one gulp. "Right. Okay." He was breathing hard, almost panting, and clenching his fists tight as iron. "I'm fine. I'm fine."

"How about we read that physics book today?" Sigmun suggested.

"Yeah," Simonn said. "Sure." He breathed in and out one more time and he seemed to sort of collect himself. "I'll start."

I feel so sorry for him. I mean, my mother doesn't love me, but at least I don't think she wants me dead. And he's almost like an adult, even though he's our age. I wish I could do something to help Simonn, because it's obvious how much this gets to him and I just wish there was something I could do.

12 December 1611

More Russian today, and I've decided that this ranks between German and Italian on how hard it is to learn. Simonn was still distressed, so we read slowly and Dolora made tea. Dolora always makes tea and I know it sounds weird, but I think it helps. Simonn pretended to roll his eyes, but I know he was faking it. I feel so bad for his poor little sister, the one who hasn't been born yet. The little one won't know nearly enough life. And the others in his family will all have to cope with the loss. As if they haven't lost enough children! Actually, they were quite lucky. Simonn was the first, then Annabelle, then Christopher, and then Margaret. Those three didn't make it. I think Annabelle would be fourteen, Christopher thirteen, and Margaret would be eleven. His living siblings are…hm. Richard is ten, Thomas is eight, Robert seven, and Isabelle is five. And now they'll lose another one…

I can't help but believe Simonn about his dreams of the future. I don't know why he would lie and I don't think anyone could've faked that sort of hysteria. Anyways, he'd never lie about something like that to us. There are people no one lies to and best friends are some of them. It's just really horrible to think that he knows and can't tell.

I think the only thing that even comes close is finding out that you were the one not being told.

13 December 1611

We all practiced handwriting today and I still can't read Simonn's because in addition to being rather messy, it meanders around the page wherever there's room, unlike Sigmun's neat and legible rows. My writing is slowly getting better; at least it's legible. It's nowhere near Sigmun's neat writing, but my friends could read what I wrote and I can look back and read my journal entries from August.

Simonn was still tense today. I think I'll do something nice tomorrow for him, maybe help him feel better. Perhaps those fried apples we all love.

14 December 1611

I persuaded Sigmun to help me and we made cooked apples with cinnamon and sugar and a little bit of puff pastry. Sigmun was reluctant to help and I think it's because of that cake back in September. Well, it turned out better this time (also, Dolora was home when we were), and nobody set anything on fire. Sigmun looked incredibly relieved when the apples were done and I have a suspicion he was worried about embarrassing himself. It's a bit silly; I was there when he and Simonn lit the dish towels on fire and when we were about ten and he thought you were supposed to throw potatoes to see if they're done so he threw a whole bunch of sautéed potatoes on the ceiling and they (predictably) landed on his head (that is a funny memory). I can't think of anything Sigmun could do that would make me see him any different. Except perhaps something awful like killing someone or the like.

Simonn's face had this genuine smile for just a moment when he saw the apples (he'd been absorbed in reading). I think he appreciated it. Having a curse like that must be awful.

15 December 1611

I hate Christmas. I know that's a fairly stereotypical thing for a girl with a miserable family situation to say, but it's true. I hate it. My friends all have families. Simonn's siblings love him, and he loves them. Sigmun and Dolora have each other. Mariek's mother and father love her, as do Neolla's and Hannah's and my other friends. Candas and Orvill and Grantt live in the city, and they have families. I've got no one.

And I've got to remind Mother to light the love candle on Sunday. If she loved me, that candle would make a lot more sense. To me, love isn't my mother. It's Dolora rescuing Sigmun and keeping him. It's Sigmun pulling me away from the edge of the ice so I'd be safe. It's the three of us baking that stupid cake and Dolora eating it anyways. It's Sigmun and I cooking those apples to cheer up Simonn. It's Dolora hugging Simonn and I when we come over after a big storm. It's Neolla's father agreeing to lie for her so she can go to school. It's every single day I come over and Sigmun and Dolora's house feels so warm and safe and full.

That's love. Not my mother always screaming at me or my father never coming home or Simonn's parents forgetting him or Sigmun's birth mother leading him behind in that alley. That's not love, and I know it.

16 December 1611

My chest ached today and I have no idea why. Why does this happen? The worst is the itching because it's awful and I can't scratch it. I hate having a woman's shape because my chest always hurts or itches. And the weirdest thing happens: halfway between my cycles, I get this funny pain down low, by my hip, for all of half an hour. It makes me want to curl up and die, and of course my other thought is that I'm sick and I better talk to Dolora. It's happened every time, so I suppose it ought to happen? I don't know. Maybe I should ask Dolora; I don't know anything about this sort of thing because Mother just won't tell me. Although I'm willing to bet some of the books on the top shelves would tell me.

I wish people would be more transparent about things like this. I wouldn't know if I was sick because I don't know what healthy is supposed to feel like. I wouldn't know the difference between how I feel and how healthy feels. And though I'm sick of being told how I'm supposed to act and feel, I want to know how healthy feels!

I'll just ask Dolora tomorrow. I'm afraid I'm sick.

Oh, and we read about more history today. Sigmun was enthusiastic as he picked apart each action and it was so endearing, watching him get so excited. He sees history the way I see language: all the complexities and consequences laid out like a map to follow. It's how Simonn sees science, how Dolora sees medicine, how Neolla sees law, how Mariek sees the schemes she plans. I think everyone's got something they see that way, it's just a matter of finding out what.

17 December 1611

Simonn left early and I guess Dolora could tell I wanted to talk to her, because she sent Sigmun to get ice from the river and told me that I could help by getting her herbs. "What is it, Dianna dear?"

"I…I'm just worried," I confessed.

"What's wrong, Dianna?" I wish I wasn't so afraid of talking about things. I know Dolora will listen.

I blurted everything else in one breath. "I get this funny pain by my hip halfway between my cycles and I'm afraid I'm sick and I'm gonna die."

"Calm down, Dianna dear. You're fine. That happens to some women. It just means that's the time of month it's best to try for a baby, okay? You shouldn't be worrying."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure." There's an almost practiced voice she has when she's comforting someone, but it's still soothing. I'm just really glad I'm not sick, because I was sure that I was really sick. I don't know why Mother won't just talk to me about growing up; everyone grows up at some point. Sometimes I think she's keeping me in the dark just because she knows it'll make me miserable. Maybe I've just got a little pessimism mixed in with the optimism.

18 December 1611

Geometry today. I prefer algebra to geometry, but geometry's not so bad. My least favorite is trigonometry. Why on Earth do the sides of a right triangle always work that way? I just don't understand it. Simonn said that it's to do with similarities and that if all three angles are the same it proves similarity and...oh, I don't remember. I don't care, either.

Mother's still going on about how all her soap disappeared and thieves must've broken into the house and stolen all the soap. She is going to kill me if she ever finds out. I pray she never does.

19 December 1611

I got my bleeding today and I hate it, I absolutely hate it. I don't see the point, I just get annoyed and sore and irritable and rather sick. It's irregular, too, and I don't like it because I never know! It's just miserable.

We studied Russian history today and I do like picking history apart with my friends. I can't imagine not learning this way. Though I'm sure school will be good for Neolla, and it was clearly good for Dolora, I just don't think it would work for me. I need to be outside, moving, feeling. I love the dew on my feet, the crunching leaves in autumn, the scarlet sunsets, the cool river on my skin, the rough bark under the palms of my hands, the smooth grass beneath my feet. I love sunshine through green leaves, bright stars at night, ripe berries bursting with juice, lightning and thunder and pounding rain tumbling down to Earth, colored rainbows glittering in the light. I love outside and I can't imagine learning from books without also learning outside.

20 December 1611

Today Dolora was gone all day, which is only noteworthy because Sigmun enlisted Simonn's and my help to make Dolora a gift. He's making a wreath out of pines, winter herbs and berries, and preserved things. We found pine branches today in the woods. The snow crunched under my boots and snowflakes landed and melted all over us. Flakes landed in Sigmun's hair and eyelashes and it just made him so lovely to look at, because he looked like winter and a sunset...and I love him.

Simonn tripped on a rock and landed face-down in a snowdrift and we had to help him up. And find his shoes. I find it funny that Simonn's shoes don't match anymore.

Also, I stayed for dinner and Simonn did too. Dolora made mashed potatoes and stew and some boiled carrots. Dolora makes such nice meals when Simonn and I stay for dinner. It makes me feet so guilty, because I know they don't have much, but Dolora won't let me pay her back-believe me, I've tried. I wish she'd let me pay. I just don't want to take from them when they have so little to give.

21 December 1611

Simonn probably won't come to Dolora and Sigmun's again until after Epiphany. His other family comes to town for the time and he's got four little siblings to wrangle. Whenever Simonn's with his siblings on festival days in the city, I see him laughing and I see them acting like he's their parent. That's why I want siblings; I want something like that.

Anyways, despite a feeling of impending doom all day (I have no idea what that was about), not much happened.

Dolora says her friend might be coming for Christmas next year (she has friends in the city she writes to), I certainly hope so! I'd love to meet someone from the city. And I'd bet Dolora's friends are interesting and clever, too.

Oh, and we were reading today and Sigmun put his arm around me and I felt all shivery inside, but he pulled his arm back almost right away. I wonder what that's all about.

22 December 1611

Sigmun and I searched the woods for winter flowers and berries and things for Dolora's gift. He talked about how lovely winter is and how come nothing could be easy. I asked what he meant and he just said that changing things was so hard, that so many people get pushed down and it's so hard to change. I agree, but he always talks this way and it always worries me. I care, and I want things to change, but I also want him and all of us to be safe.

23 December 1611

Mother cooked the turkey today and I know it'll be cold and dry by Christmas, but she does it this way every year. Maybe she knows how drunk she'll be Christmas day. I sure do.

Sigmun and I practiced Russian today and I have the alphabet down cold. Now it's just a matter of stitching sentences together and verb conjugations and pronunciation. I love languages and I think this'll be fun.

24 December 1611

Sigmun and I practiced calligraphy today and I can tell he's excited. He's probably happy because it's Christmas tomorrow and I was happy while I was there because seeing him happy makes me happy, even when I'm sad like this.

I'm dreading Christmas. It's supposed to be happy, but it's the worst day of the year. I don't even know if I'll bother getting up. There's nothing that'll make it better.

25 December 1611

I made Dolora's Yorkshire pudding today. And I found some turkey Mother cooked exactly two days ago and I made up two plates and I brought one into Mother's room and she sort of slurred something at me and threw a pillow at my head (which I dodged). I also lit the four Advent candles and I ate Christmas dinner by myself like always. Mother's always drunk on Christmas. She wants Father to come home and he never does, so she drinks until she stumbles to bed (around noon) and I eat dinner by myself.

Simonn has Christmas with his brothers and sister and mother and father and they have a real dinner with presents and everything. Sigmun and Dolora have their little Christmas together and they give each other gifts. I've got my drunk mother and my missing father and my lonely Christmas dinners with cold turkey and no one to give a gift to.

26 December 1611

I don't usually go over to Sigmun's the day after Christmas, but he showed up at my house with that cloak he always wears in winter and knocked on the door and asked if I wanted to come over (I wonder if he suspects I dread this season). I wanted to (believe me, I did), but Mother was sick from drinking. So I told Sigmun that I couldn't and he asked why and I said it was Mother and he asked me what about my mother and I…I started crying because Mother's always drunk and I'm always alone on Christmas and it's just cold turkey and drunk shouting and four candles and me.

Sigmun kind of hugged me awkwardly and he helped me inside to the couch and I just cried onto his shoulder for the longest time and he looked really confused but he wrapped his cloak around me and let me cry until I could talk again.

"It's Mother."

"What?"

"…Every year on Christmas, Mother cooks turkey on the twenty-third and waits for Father to come home for Christmas Eve. And he never does…he never does. So Mother gets drunk and locks herself in her room and screams at me when I bring her a plate and I light the four candles and eat dinner at the table and…all of you have families and presents and proper meals on Christmas and I just want a normal Christmas like everyone else!"

"Why didn't you just say so? Maybe we could've done something."

"Because Mother gets drunk. I can't just go talking about it."

"Well…you could come over for Christmas next year."

"What about Mother?"

"Would she notice if you're gone?"

"She usually tells me that she'll kill me if I try to steal her things. She thinks I'm a robber…except once she thought I was Father. But I gave her the plate and she changed her mind and thought I was her great-aunt Annabelle."

"So…she wouldn't."

"Suppose not."

"Then why not leave her with a plate and come eat dinner with us? Mama would definitely let you come."

I started crying again and Sigmun started hugging me again and I'm so glad he was there because I guess I never really considered that I really ought to worry about taking care of myself, too, instead of spending all my time and energy on my mother. I mean, I suppose she still needs help, but she doesn't even remember Christmas day.

Maybe I could have a nice Christmas for once.

27 December 1611

I didn't go to Sigmun's yesterday because Mother started vomiting and he had to leave because Dolora expected him home. But I went today and I guess Sigmun told Dolora about Mother because she just wrapped me up in a really tight hug and she didn't let me go for a long, long time. And she handed me a little bracelet and said, "Happy Christmas, Dianna." I don't think she knows how much that meant. No one's ever said Happy Christmas to me before.

Simonn didn't come, because he never comes between the twenty-second and the twenty-eighth. But Dolora set out a really fancy lunch of Christmas leftovers (I think) and she insisted we all sit down to eat it. I almost started crying again because usually for lunch Simonn and I bring food from home and Sigmun finds something and we eat in the woods or in his room sort of casually, if at all. I sit down with Mother for dinner but all she does is nag me about getting married and "meeting with those boys" because they'll "corrupt my morals" and "lead me down the path of sin." How can this be bad? How can a meal with my best friend and his mother that actually makes me happy be bad? Not to mention Mother's always got this "lovely boy you really ought to meet" because he's "a good man" with "strong morals" who'll be able to "support you so you can care for him."

I don't think that's what marriage is supposed to be for, but then, what do I know? I just have this weird little intuition that tells me marriage is supposed to be not about a man with money and woman who belongs to him, but about two people who fall in love and want to spend their lives together.

Maybe I'm just a romantic.

28 December 1611

Such a long day today. I went to Sigmun's and stayed there with Simonn and Sigmun in the morning and afternoon and that was nice, but then I had to go home and run errands for three hours and then I had to work up the courage and ask Mother what to do about the monthly bleeding and I am just so tired. I don't want to do anything but lie in bed for a week. I just want to sleep and not wake up for days.

29 December 1611

New Year's is in three days! I could do with a fresh start right now. I need to come up with some resolutions. I'll write them down tomorrow. I didn't sleep at all last night and I can barely even write right now.

30 December 1611

Okay. Here is a list of my New Year's resolutions.

1. Learn to sew properly

2. Keep up this journal!

3. Write a story or a poem

4. Spend Christmas with Sigmun and Dolora

5. Tell Sigmun I really like him (somehow)

6. Figure out how to tell Mother I don't want to get married yet

31 December 1611

Revisions:

1. Learn to sew better

2. Keep up this journal and get a new one when it runs out of pages

3. Write a story or poem or both

4. Spend Christmas with Sigmun and Dolora

5. Tell Sigmun I love him

6. Tell Mother I don't want to get married yet


	3. January-February, 1612

**A/N: I'm going to start tagging chapters in these notes. There's some violence in this chapter. **

1 January 1612

Today was such a fun day! Sigmun and Simonn and I went skating (that's what we call it, even though none of us can afford skates), and the river was almost entirely frozen over! When it's like that, besides the fact that we have to keep moving to stay warm, we can skate over this huge expanse of ice and it's just a lot of fun. And I think a new year is a day to celebrate, because it's like starting over from a place that maybe wasn't so good and then going somewhere new. I want to be somewhere new by the end of the year.

We didn't study today. Simonn said he can only come over today and tomorrow and maybe the next day, but then it's Epiphany and he's got to celebrate that with his family. Mother usually makes a cake for Epiphany (I hope I'm spelling it right), but she only makes me stay home for dinner, so it's not too bad.

I sometimes wonder why there are three kings, and why they all have light skin in pictures. People who live in Africa usually have dark skin, I think, so shouldn't the three kings have dark skin? And I think that there should've been at least one queen. I think Mary would've appreciated a sympathetic friend, instead of incense. It just seems strange to me.

Anyways, we went skating and then, when it started snowing, we climbed the big pine tree in the clearing as high as we could and just sat and watched the snow fall. I love watching snow tumble from the clouds, because you can't quite see where it's coming from. I like to imagine that angels make snowflakes when they're bored and toss them to Earth for us to enjoy. I know that's not true, but I'd like to think so.

Sigmun looks so nice with snowflakes in his hair and eyelashes. I just love him so much! And that smile he has, that bright, wide smile, it lights up his whole face and makes me feel like I'm flying. I wonder if he could tell I was staring? I certainly hope not.

I almost forgot! I tried to write a poem today, but it didn't turn out so well, so I'm not going to put it here. I tried something called a sonnet and it just sounded all wrong, so I threw it in the fire. I'll come up with something better tomorrow.

2 January 1612

Is it possible that I'm just really bad at poetry? I tried again today. I tried to write about trees, because poets write about nature, but it didn't turn out so well. I wonder if I could write about the snow, about watching it fall and the glistening flakes landing in Sigmun's hair and catching in the pine needles and decorating the whole world. I suppose it's worth a try.

But that's a task for another day. Today, we skipped studying again in favor of playing in the woods. Sigmun and Simonn talked me into climbing to the treetops and jumping around. It was dangerous and probably very stupid, but also...its was fun and I felt this rush of energy surge through my whole body and I loved it. None of us got hurt, luckily, and of course the old callouses on my hands and feet protected me from scrapes. Winter boots make it hard to climb trees, but we managed. And there's nothing in the world I'd rather do than spend time with my best friends.

3 January 1612

Dolora told me that tomorrow, she'll help me brush my hair. She tells me things like this so it's clear she's telling more than asking, but I know she worried about the fact that I can't brush my hair on my own. There's just too much hair; it's a practical matter. Maybe what I mean is that she worries because Mother doesn't care enough to help.

We read another chapter of the novel today and I think adventure is my second-favorite genre, just after romance. And I like this book, with all the symbolism and beautiful description and complicated characters. It seems like they're real people and I think that's why I love novels; it's a whole world in just the thin pages of a book.

4 January 1612

That was a task. Dolora had me sit in a chair like always and she did the right side of my hair and I did what I could with the left (because I use my right hand for most things). I'm glad Simonn and Sigmun left to check on the garden and the herb patches in the woods because I think I'd faint if Sigmun helped me brush my hair because I'm sure he'd be all gentle like he is and he'd tell me I have nice hair and I wouldn't be able to take that because I know he means it as a platonic compliment and I don't want to give myself false hope.

So now my hair is reasonably brushed-out, the point where Mother asked me if I'd used hair thinner without asking her and got very upset. I really like having smooth hair and I wish I didn't have to spend hours brushing it out. I wonder what it would feel like to have Sigmun touching my hair if he loved me. I bet it would feel wonderful and I bet he'd be all gentle and tender like he is and I bet he'd be nice about my hair even though it is admittedly rather thick and ugly and not the pretty color of brown Mariek or Hannah has. My mind wanders to things like this all the time and I can't help but wonder what it would be like if Sigmun loved me.

It'd be nice.

5 January 1612

Simonn didn't come to Sigmun and Dolora's today, so Sigmun and I didn't read the novel. Instead we read some romance poetry (because Dolora wasn't home) and analyzed it to within an inch of life. I think in schools, they analyze poetry by the words and I think that's silly because poetry is about feelings and about thoughts you have that you don't quite understand yourself and if you try to figure out what it means by looking at the words and not what the words mean, then I think you miss a big part of it. But I'm sure Neolla would disagree. I suppose everyone has their opinions and their strengths. I don't understand law or arguing the way she does.

I had a nightmare last night that I fell off a cliff and then I died but I had twenty-four hours to live (I'm not sure I understand that), so I went to tell Sigmun and Dolora and Simonn, but they were all gone and I never found them and then I died alone in the river.

6 January 1612

I had another nightmare and I don't know why. In this one, Sigmun did love me and as far as I could tell, it was my usual swimming dream. But then my skirt got heavy and I couldn't seem to keep myself afloat so I tried to grab onto Sigmun, but he shoved me away and said, "You're so stupid! What, did you think anyone could ever love you? You?" My head went underwater and I couldn't breathe and everything went all distorted and I tried to swim for the surface, but Sigmun held my head underwater and I looked up, like I was going to say something to him or maybe just catch a glimpse of the sun, but everything was pitch black and I was terrified. I tried and tried to breathe, but I couldn't. All I could hear was rushing water and Sigmun laughing at me and someone screaming and then I woke up and I realized I'd been screaming and Mother was yelling at me.

I don't know why I had that nightmare and I wish I could stop thinking about it. I know that even though Sigmun doesn't love me (he can't), he's my friend and he wouldn't do something that horrible, anyways. I was pretty jumpy today because I didn't get back to sleep and I wasn't tired because that nightmare made me so stressed. I don't know what I'd do if I started drowning for real, either.

Today was Epiphany (oh joy). Mother made that cake and I avoided her most of the day by reading more poetry at Sigmun and Dolora's house. The cake wasn't half bad, but Mother forgot to put the almond in again and she got mad at me for it. I wasn't even in the house when she baked the cake and she's blaming me. How does that make sense?

7 January 1612

I hate that the nightmare is still occupying my thoughts. It's ridiculous. I trust my friends and I know Sigmun would never be like that. He doesn't lie, he doesn't hurt people, and he'd never purposefully drown someone. Never. I firmly believe it. But I feel tense and I can tell I've been irritable towards my friends. I wish I could talk to someone without feeling this heavy guilt and shame. Simonn and Sigmun talk so freely about things and I wish I could do that.

I don't think I wish for much, really. I wish for love, and for someone to talk to, and for maybe a little less shame. I wish for women and people with dark skin to be allowed to do the things men with light skin can do. I wish for people to treat everyone the same. I wish I could be allowed to choose who touches me.

Maybe that is too much to wish for.

We read the next chapter of the novel. Right now, the hero is fighting the villain on a mountain and the villain has the hero pinned on the edge of a cliff. Of course they're both men. But I quite like the book anyways.

8 January 1612

We got back to studying today. Simonn talked us into reading that physics book he likes so much and I didn't fall asleep at all. I only really fall asleep a lot in December and November and sometimes May because that's when I have the most nightmares. I don't like the lack of sleep, and I certainly don't like missing learning things because I'm sleeping. It's just so tiring, having nightmares.

Anyways, I think I actually understood some of it this time. The overall force on something is connected to how hard you push it. I don't know why the man who wrote the book felt the need to write that down; everyone knows that. Maybe it's because he came up with the numbers to count it exactly? The point is, I'm not quite as lost as I was and I'm certainly glad for that.

I've taken to daydreaming during dinner when Mother's nagging and I usually let my mind drift to a little dream world with Sigmun and me and sometimes my other friends, a world where it never storms hard enough to break houses and mothers and fathers love their children and my love loves me back and I don't feel so lonely.

9 January 1612

I went to run errands today and I've never hated the market so much. I'm sick of men calling me sweetheart and sugar and then shouting names like bitch and whore when I walk away with my head down and my stomach in knots. It makes me want to cry because I just don't want them touching me and I didn't think that was so wrong but now I do. Is it wrong that I don't like this sort of thing? I know I'm supposed to be flattered, even flirtatious back. But I feel uncomfortable, and upset, and even a little angry. What I do feel and what I'm supposed to feel don't match up. They never have and I doubt they ever will. I'm not even sure what I'm supposed to feel sometimes.

We read some poetry today and I liked it a lot. I like poetry because sometimes it just speaks right to your soul, without stopping at your mind. My soul remembers things better than my mind sometimes and anyways, I just can't always trust my mind these days.

10 January 1612

I met my girl friends in the market today in the afternoon and we just talked things over like we do. Neolla's application for Yangsley's was accepted under the name Nelson Redglare. Mariek's mother is ill, possibly with consumption, and she won't admit it. Mariek said she's going to start sneaking medicine into her mother's food because her mother won't listen to anyone who says she's ill. Candas came to the village today, and she's fighting for her spot as heir to the throne with a second cousin once removed in Russia she never knew she had. Hannah's the same as ever, except her father is trying to set her up to marry a forty-year-old man from...Austria? Or maybe Hungary? The point is that she's met him once and he doesn't speak our language. It doesn't really surprise me. Hannah's father is always rather grumpy and I think it's because Hannah has two sisters (one older and one younger) and no brothers. A lot of my friends have lots of sisters and it makes me sad to think that their parents don't love them just because of that.

At any rate, we just talked about things for a while and helped Neolla practice her voice for Yangsley's and gossiped about the other girls (I know it's not nice to gossip, but…) and played this little game we have where one of us describes something or someone as subjectively and poorly as we can and the others guess it. I didn't do so well at guessing, but I did pretty well with describing because I described the river and no one got it.

11 January 1612

I had a dream last night that I had a sister, I think. She was my age, and she looked like Mother, but a bit like Father. So I guess she wasn't my sister by blood. But I remember she and I were close in the dream. I had these dream-memories of playing games when we were little and learning to sew together and secretly learning to read and...having a sister. I woke up wishing it was real. Of course I did.

We studied some French history today and I thole business with ought it was rather interesting. The French seem to be doing alright. Better than the Holy Roman Empire, anyways.

Then again, most everyone is.

\12 January 1612

I had a dream last night and I don't remember what it was about but when I woke up, I was afraid.

Mother tried to give me all these criticisms about my hair and my face and my body and my clothes. At least she doesn't make me wear makeup. I don't like how it feels, all sticky and thick and toxic. I just feel like it's toxic; is that odd? Anyways, I know Mariek and Hannah quite like makeup and I can't fault them for that. I think it's just your choice.

We studied a chapter of the novel today and Simonn said that why did good always have to beat evil, couldn't it be the other way around to mix it up? And Sigmun said good has to beat evil, or else we'll lose hope for humanity. And I said that good beats evil because it's a book and we want good to win to make us believe that good can win because in real life, evil does win a lot.

I don't at all mind good beating evil in books because evil seems to have long since won in real life.

13 January 1612

I'm afraid he'll figure out I love him, pretend to love me back, and then break my heart. I know it's irrational, because he's kind and he wouldn't do something like that and he's my best friend. But I just...people outside my friends always seem like they have fun hurting me and I'm just scared of getting my heart broken.

We studied math today and we did quadratics. Graphing isn't as hard as Sigmun says it is, but then again it's not as easy as Simonn says it is, either. I guess it's all about aptitude.

14 January 1612

There was a horrible snowstorm today and Dolora scolded me for walking the mile to her house in the driving snow. I know it's because she cares. Mother didn't even notice I left.

Actually, Mother spent a good deal of time "advising" me on what I should be doing with my time, and evidently it's not "try to get some sort of education" or "let those awful friends lead you astray" or "be with those boys". Boys aren't bad by nature and I don't know why Mother says they are. Some of them aren't kind, but then some girls aren't kind, either. Like Mother.

15 January 1612

Sigmun seemed anxious today and I think he had some sort of nightmare because he kept jumping at seemingly random things; the sound of a book being dropped, when I set down my cup and it clicked against Simonn's, the shelf that's full of books with red covers. I know all too well that weird dreams can make you jumpy about all sorts of things. I hope he's alright.

We studied Russian today, and some history too. The verb conjugations aren't so hard for me, and the irregulars aren't so bad to memorize. Simonn's struggling, but he always has trouble with languages.

16 January 1612

I feel so lonely some days. I know there are people who love me, and people who apparently like my company (though heaven knows why), but…

I suppose it's like this. If I'd never been born, who would care? Not my parents, birth or adoptive. Simonn and Sigmun would have each other and Dolora. Neolla and Mariek and Hannah and my other village friends would have each other. Grantt and Orvill and Candas, the same. The giggly girls in the village wouldn't care. Others in the village wouldn't give a damn. I don't mean anything to anyone. Sometimes I think they wouldn't notice if I died.

We studied the novel and the heroine has just been saved and I can't help but wonder: what if she didn't want to be rescued?

17 January 1612

There're still piles of snow everywhere from that snowstorm a few days ago. I love how it looks, but on the road it's getting slushy and brown. I like snow in the forest because it's always clean and fresh and the world just looks so new. Like a new beginning. Sometimes I wish I could get a new beginning.

We studied the Holy Roman Empire and I think that they could've done a lot better with their government. Maybe they wouldn't have fallen then.

On the other hand, everything falls eventually.

18 January 1612

We did physics today from that books by...Newton! That's his name. But I don't remember the title anymore. It's Simonn's favorite book. (Mine is Lost at Sea and Sigmun's is Last Words.)

I walked in and they were having this whispered conversation upstairs and Dolora smiled like she knew what was going on and I just think that there's a secret being kept from me, or at least like they don't want me around. No one wants me around.

It's rather disheartening.

19 January 1612

This is going to sound silly, but today when Simonn was reading and I was half-asleep (I had another nightmare), I heard Sigmun stand up and say he was going to get a glass of water, so of course what did I do but try to sit up and end up rolling off the couch? I crashed on the ground on my back and I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach for some reason. And of course I felt completely stupid because I'd just managed to fall off a couch and completely lose my breath and Sigmun was watching.

Simonn snorted into the book he was reading (we studied some history today) and covered his mouth like he does when he's trying not to laugh. But Sigmun held out his hand to help me up and I took it and he pulled me to standing and I didn't want to let go of his hand, but I kind of had to. So I sat back down on the couch and Sigmun went to get his glass of water and Simonn gave me another one of those raised-eyebrow looks and I gave him another glare. He just helped me up, like a friend would. It's not his fault that when he smiled that beautiful smile that doesn't quite fit on his face in the best way, his eyes flashed crimson and my mind melted because he has the best smile. I'm sure I blushed, which is silly because I've spent pretty much every day with him since I was seven and there is absolutely no reason to be flustered over him helping me up, none at all. There's no reason to get nervous that his hand was warm and a little bit sweaty and his grip was tight and I could feel his hand shaking just a bit and his face looked a little flushed and...he's just very good looking.

I don't know why his face was flushed like that, either. Why would he be flustered about just helping me up? Why would he be at all nervous about something like that? And why would he not want to let go of my hand? I could feel reluctance in his grip and I just don't know why he'd want to hold my hand. Why would he want to spend time with me?

And now I've analyzed this single, stupid moment in time to bits and I've extracted every possible lack of meaning from the few minutes it took for me to fall off a couch and my best friend to help me up. I'd like to rationalize everything by saying that he loves me, but that can't be. It just can't be.

20 January 1612

I heard this whispered conversation today between Sigmun and Simonn and I'm...I'm just really upset that they're keeping secrets from me. I only heard a few words.

"…staring at you."

"Was not!"

"Look, I don't know if you've lost a good chunk of your mind since turning sixteen, but…" Then I couldn't hear for a little.

I heard just a couple more things. "...completely obvious, it's like a glass window in the palace."

"Shut up." Pause. "Swear you won't tell?"

"Haven't I every single damn time we have this stupid conversation?"

"Just swear it."

"I promise."

So I guess they're keeping some secret they talk about sometimes. I don't expect them to tell me everything, but it's just kind of upsetting that I'm the odd one out again. I feel like even Dolora knows. I suppose they'll probably tell me at some point. I've always told them my secrets. (Except that I haven't told Sigmun I love him, but that's different. Very, very different.) Anyways, I remember that last time something like this happened, it turned out Simonn was planning revenge on me for pushing him into the river once (I was twelve).

Oh, and we studied Austrian history today. I found it somewhere between learning Russian and practicing geometry in terms of interest.

21 January 1612

I had another nightmare last night. It was almost the same as the one from before, with the drowning. When my skirt started to feel heavy, I clung to Sigmun like last time, but he said, "You're pathetic! Absolutely pathetic! Did you think you deserved love? You?" And I wanted to cry because I don't think I deserve love, but that doesn't mean I don't want it. And then there was this huge crack of thunder and a storm started and the river was rollicking like the ocean and I started drowning and I didn't bother to try to swim up but I could feel his hands holding me underwater and I couldn't breathe and I woke up breathing like I'd run twenty miles. I don't know why it was different, and I don't know why I dreamed it again, and I don't know why I'm even having these nightmares in the first place. I hate them, more than I've ever hated anything in my life. I don't like hating things, but I absolutely despise these nightmares.

We studied medical science today, and though I don't like looking at drawings of the insides of dead people, it was rather interesting. I suppose things can be interesting, even if I don't particularly like them myself.

22 January 1612

I was very shaken today because my nightmare last night was one of the worst I've ever had. It didn't even make sense, except that it focused on one of my worst fears.

In the dream, I was going to tell him I love him. I was sure it was real, in the dream, even more than I normally am. I was just going to go up to him and tell him and kiss him like Simonn said I should. So I was talking to him, and I said, "Sigmun, I love you." And I thought it would turn out alright! If he didn't love me that way, I could tell him I meant it platonically. But he didn't.

First, he laughed, and I was confused. Then he shoved me away, which hurt a good deal, and he said, "I hate you! I hate everything about you!" His face contorted from laughter to rage. "Did you really think I would ever love you? You're ugly, and you're stupid and shallow and cowardly and useless and weak and bad at everything! You're awful and mean and I hate you!" And then Simonn was there, laughing at how stupid I'd been to take his advice, and I couldn't stand up, and then I woke up and I realized I was fighting my blanket like my worst enemy. Then I realized I was crying. At least I wasn't screaming.

I don't know why I've been having so many more nightmares lately. I know nightmares happen when you're upset about something in real life, and I can't think of anything I'm upset about besides that my friends are keeping secrets from me and the fact that I'm unloved and that I'm even having these nightmares in the first place.

Does that count as stress?

Anyways, we studied some German history today and I liked it a good deal better than medical science.

23 January 1612

No nightmares last night, thank heaven. I've been admittedly ruder than usual to Mother because she's mad about my lack of self-grooming. I think I'm keeping myself in fine shape: I bathe four times a year, I change my clothes every day, I brush my hair properly once in a while and finger-brush it every day, I eat and drink enough to feel full, and I generally keep myself looking fine. But Mother wants me to wear makeup because I have a year and a half to find a "suitable husband". I don't like makeup! I just don't. I don't care even if Sigmun would think I'm pretty (or at least less ugly) with it on. I dress and keep clean for myself, no one else. We got into an argument about it, actually.

"I'm not going to wear makeup!"

"Why not? You'll look a bit less respectable with it on?"

"I thought that it made me look like a prostitute?"

"When you were fourteen, you useless child!"

"Oh, and it's all so different now!"

"Yes it is! Put that makeup on right now or so help me—"

"I won't!"

"Fine! Go around looking like a pathetic, ugly, useless slave!"

"Now who's being sarcastic?"

"GO TO YOUR ROOM!"

"FINE!" I ran upstairs and slammed my door and I wanted to never leave again.

We studied Russian and we have most of the verb conjugations down pat. I think I'll be able to do sentences soon. I certainly hope so! I think Russian will be a fun language to speak.

24 January 1612

I can't stop thinking about how it would feel to kiss him. I wonder if his skin is soft and smooth, or calloused and rough from cold, or warm with a little stubble like men's faces are when they start growing up. (Sigmun and Simonn both have some hair on their faces and I find that rather handsome.) I wonder if he would touch my hair, or even thread his fingers through it the way I long to do with his. I wonder how that messy, almond-colored hair of his feels, if it's like the late autumn leaves whose color it so resembles, or thick and warm and a little soft, or smooth and silky and lovely like I imagine. I wonder how his body would feel pressed against mine that way. I bet he'd feel like something between the warmth of the fire and the comfort of a nice summer rain, and maybe a little bit of the exhilaration of lightning. I bet he'd feel wonderful.

If he ever does kiss me, either because I'm the only girl around or for practice kissing (I'm sure it's one of those things you have to practice), what would I do? I'd want to press my lips to his as had as I can and feel his hair between my fingers and wrap my arms around his shoulders. I'd want to kiss him the way you kiss someone when you love them with all your heart. But I don't think I'd want to do that to him, because he'd want to kiss me the way you kiss someone on a dare.

We studied physics today and I'm even less lost this time and I'm very proud of that. I may have actually accomplished something for once in my life.

25 January 1612

Russian today. I got a simple sentence right and I helped Sigmun and Simonn understand it. I never really meant to stare at Sigmun while he was crafting his letters so nicely, but I did and he looked up suddenly and I hope he didn't notice the awful blush rebelling against my wishes by turning my face bright red. If I didn't know better, I'd say he was blushing, too. Simonn caught my eye and mouthed, "Just tell him already!" I just glared at him and mouthed, "I will!" He rolled his eyes and gave up, for the time being. I just can't tell him yet; I'm too afraid.

26 January 1612

Simonn brought up girls today and I swear he was tying to get me to admit how much I love Sigmun. I hate Simonn sometimes.

Sigmun seemed nervous and a little upset and changed the topic of conversation to trees. It was a bit forced and awkward, but I guess he felt uncomfortable and I think it's to do with the secret they're keeping. I walked in on another one of their whispered conversations/arguments and I know they're keeping something from me and I don't like it, but what can I do? I'll give it more time and hope Simonn's not planning to plant something in a book again.

27 January 1612

I had that nightmare again. In the beginning, Simonn was there too, but then he left and Sigmun and I were swimming around and he told me he loved me and I told him I loved him and I kissed him and everything felt happy and light and wonderful. But then I couldn't seem to stay afloat and I slipped away from him and then he grabbed my arm and dug his nails into my skin and hissed, "You stupid bitch! You really think love is real? It's not! It never has been!" And he shoved my head under and I couldn't breathe and I woke up and I was crying silently.

We studied chemistry today. It wasn't really that memorable.

Oh, and I found my baby blanket. It was under my bed somehow. I wonder how that happened? Anyways, it's old and dusty and ratty, but it still feels like it did when I was three and Mother tried to make me give it up the first time. I guess she never knew I hid it to make her think I'd listened. Back when I listened to her…

I'm keeping it. I'm sixteen years old and I'm keeping my baby blanket.

28 January 1612

I came over and Simonn and Sigmun were whispering like a couple of nine-year-olds again and I'm just getting upset because every time I come over, they give me this look like I'm the kid who keeps interrupting her older sibling's friends. I thought we were friends! I'm pretty sure friends don't look at friends like that.

Oh, and Mother yelled at me about my ugly face today. I endured it for a while before I couldn't hold back crying anymore and I ran to my room and slammed the door. I hate her sometimes. I hate, hate, hate her for what she does to me. I seem to remember liking myself when I was little and I know that was silly, because I'm not someone worth liking, but I felt better about things then. At least, I think I did.

29 January 1612

We did drawing and calligraphy today and Sigmun asked if he could try to draw me. So I told him he could if he didn't mind me practicing my calligraphy at the same time, so he sketched a rough picture of me carefully writing something and it was his name, but he didn't know that. So when he was done with his drawing and I with my writing, he asked what I'd been writing and I told him it was his name, all fancy and pretty like I'm not, and he flushed a really cute color of pink and thanked me and I just felt very flustered. I'm sure it showed. How could it not?

30 January 1612

Mother screamed at me today because I don't wear makeup and we had an argument about it.

"I don't want to wear makeup!"

"You're hopeless, absolutely hopeless! Just put on some damn makeup!"

"No!"

"You're not leaving the house without some on!" She blocked the door and I had no choice but to put some of that goop on. I smeared it on the way I know Mother thinks I should and ran past Mother and all the way to Sigmun and Dolora's and I was trying so hard not to cry, but I couldn't help it after so long. Once I got there, my only place of safety, I ran past them whispering and i started scrubbing my face with water and a washcloth because it's not fair and I don't like makeup and I gave into Mother and...I don't know.

"Dianna? What's going on?" Sigmun called.

"Nothing."

"Liar," Simonn said.

"It's just...it's just some makeup." I kept scrubbing my face raw. The water in the wash basin was almost completely white, a little pink from the rouge. I checked my face in the mirror and I couldn't tell if it was all gone, so I rubbed some more.

Sigmun wandered in and said, "But you never wear makeup; you said you hate it."

"Yeah, well, Mother thinks I should." I didn't want him to see my raw, red, makeup-stained face, so I turned away and stared down at the wash basin.

"Since when have you ever let her be in charge of your life?" Sigmun asked, and I could tell he was trying to be encouraging, reminding me that Mother never has ruled my life.

"She said I couldn't leave the house without makeup on, okay?"

"Oh. Want any help?"

"I'm fine."

"Alright." But he didn't leave. Simonn wandered into the kitchen too, and they sat there and made small talk while I scrubbed my face.

"I think your face is probably clean," Simonn said after a while. "I think that red is probably because you've scrubbed off a layer of skin or seven."

"I don't want any of that stuff on my face."

"Fair enough," Sigmun said. "But I think you've probably got it off."

I sighed, because my face still felt dirty, but they were right and anyways, it was starting to hurt. I mean, it hurt from the start, but a lot of things hurt and I'm used to it. "Fine. Let's read a novel today, alright?"

"Alright," Sigmun agreed. Simonn just nodded.

Mother didn't notice my lack of makeup because she was drinking again at dinner. I sat quiet as a mouse while she drank and yelled and talked about her stupid adoptive daughter, the useless girl, who was resisting every attempt to be made more marriable. I wish there was someone who loved me the way I think a mother ought to.

31 January 1612

Mother slept in today, so I escaped before she woke up without makeup on. Sigmun and Simonn were whispering and I was upset, but I just buried it like I always do and smiled and pretended I was fine. I mean, that's what women are supposed to do, right?

I hope I can make it to the village soon. it's been too cold for that for a while now and I dislike it. I want to see my village friends! I mean, Sigmun and Simonn are my best friends, but my village friends are important to me, too.

We studied history today. Sigmun was excited, Simonn apathetic, and I was busy trying not to look upset. (And also part of me was watching Sigmun because, honestly, I am completely lovestruck.)

1 February 1612

I had that stupid nightmare again last night. In this once, he was kissing me when I starting sinking and he pulled away from me like I was a snake and when I tried to kiss him again, he covered my mouth and said, "You're so stupid! I can't believe how gullible you are, you useless thing! Useless, helpless, hopeless!" He shoved my head underwater and I couldn't swim up and I couldn't breathe, but I fought for my life. Nothing of it and I woke up afraid and breathing hard.

They weren't whispering today, but Sigmun looked surprised when I walked in and I think he was thinking about their secret. I don't even have a clue of what it might be! I just wish I weren't so in the dark about things.

2 February 1612

My chest hurt today for some unknown reason and that was just generally irritating, especially because there is not a thing I can do about it. I can't lie on my stomach anymore, especially to sleep, and that's also annoying. I thought women are supposed to have beautiful shapes, but mine isn't. I always thought I'd grow into a nice shape, but I haven't. And I haven't been growing so much, so I'm probably going to stop soon. I used to think that even though my face and hair and everything else about is awful, maybe I'd grow up nice. But no; here I am with red splotches all over my face and an awful, disproportioned shape and ugly features still. I've resigned myself to looking like this when I'm grown up properly and I just hope something, some miracle, will prompt a change.

We studied math today and I found it to be of moderate difficulty; not too hard, but definitely a challenge. I liked it.

3 February 1612

I wish fear didn't have to rule my life. I'm afraid of so many things. I'm afraid of ending up like Mother, I'm afraid of getting my heart broken, I'm afraid of losing myself by falling in love, I'm afraid of drowning or getting in some other sort of accident, I'm afraid of what I know happens to women who walk alone, I'm afraid of getting sick, I'm afraid of Mother, I'm afraid of my nightmares, I'm afraid of so many things. I'm just so scared.

But I think I've straightened out my thoughts when it comes to love. I love Sigun like a husband. I love Simonn like a dear friend. I love my village friends like friends. I love Dolora like something between a friend and a mother. I don't love Mother, and I don't love father. I know who I love and who I don't love. At least that much is clear in my mind.

Oh, and we studied French today and we held a proper conversation in French. I'm so happy!

4 February 1612

I had a dream of the two girls I don't quite recognize last night. The two talked back and forth briefly before the older ran to me and her mouth started moving, trying to tell me something clearly important to her. Her little one (a little girl, I think) was reaching for her hair, tugging at the long locks, but she just kept trying to talk to me. Once she realized I had no idea what she was saying, she took a step back and rocked her baby for a moment or two before she motioned for her sister to join her. Then she gently passed her baby to her sister and hugged me as if I was someone she loved and hadn't seen in years. I heard a whispering and I knew it was her voice. She was older than me by a good few years, maybe twenty or twenty-five, but something about her made her seem my peer. Her sister, who looked about my age, looked at me like I was an incarnation of a story she'd been told over and over.

The older girl, after talking for a long time, hugged me again and whispered something. I heard it; it's the only time I've heard her voice. She just whispered, "Thank you." Then I woke up.

I'm confused. What's she thanking me for? I've never seen her in my life. I haven't done anything for her worth thanking me for. I guess she must be someone from my future? But why would I be dreaming about her? No, how would I be dreaming about her? How could I be dreaming about the future? I just want to know who the mystery girls who inhabit my dreams are.

5 February 1612

Mother tried to get me to wear makeup again today, but I dodged around her and made it outside without any. I guess that part of this whole thing is that I don't want to give into Mother. I don't want her to control my life. I have my own life and I want to be in charge of it!

The red blotches on my face have been slowly subsiding and I think I'm past the worst of it (which I think was in October). I certainly hope so. Besides being ugly, those blotches are quite painful.

6 February 1612

Sigmun wrote a poem today, a little one about snow. I'm putting it here.

_Glistening flakes on a frozen lake_

_Piling into drifts opaque_

_Filling the forest so brightly aglow_

_With every little fall of snow_

He said there was a second stanza, but he didn't like it so much. I really wanted to know what it was, so I did pester him a little, but he said he'd show me in a couple months after he revised it a bit. Simonn rolled his eyes and I want to know what he knows because obviously it's something and I'm sick of not knowing.

Here's a poem I wrote today. It's not very good, but I've been practicing.

_Sweet like sugar_

_Sweet like love_

_Sweet like light _

_From the moon above_

_Love like fire_

_Love like rain_

_Love like the river_

_We both take in_

7 February 1612

It's surprising how flustered it can make me to just think about Sigmun sometimes. It's not always, but…sometimes. Like today, when I was sitting with Mother at dinner, and I started daydreaming about a lovely little scene in which Sigmun and I were the clearing with the pine tree, just having a picnic, and it was very nice. It was just a little daydream that was romantic, and sweet, and only a little guilty. But I guess Mother could tell I wasn't paying attention, because she banged her fist on the table and yelled, "Dianna Leijon! What are you daydreaming about?"

"N-Nothing, Mother…"

"Liar! Is it some boy? It's that boy you used to follow around, isn't it? Isn't it?"

"No! I was just, just…I-I was thinking about…about…"

"Liar!" She slapped me and said, "Go to your room and don't come out until you tell me what you were thinking about!" I did, because my face was stinging, and I curled up on my bed and just sat there, a little cold and a little sad. Normally, I can lie much better than that to avoid Mother. I mean, I really have no choice. What's wrong with me?

We studied physics today. It's rather sweet how excited Simonn gets and how lost Sigmun is. At least we two are on the same page when it comes to physics.

8 February 1612

We studied poetry today, and I still love poetry. I wish I could write something like that.

9 February 1612

What's the worst that could happen if I tell him I love him? He could say he loves me, too, which I set at about zero percent likelihood and thus I don't really need to fuss about it. He could say he loves me as a friend, in which case I tell him that's what I meant, too, and just live with the heartbreak. That seems most likely. He could tell me he hates me, in which case I'll probably just start crying because I couldn't stand losing my friends (which I guess also applies if he doesn't want to be friends anymore because I love him). Or he could pretend he loves me for the sake of shattering my heart, which would probably achieve its desired effect, and that's the one I fear the worst, I don't know what I'd do if that happened, and that scares me, too. I guess the worst that could happen is pretty bad.

We studied Roman history today. It was quite interesting, and I rather liked it.

10 February 1612

Mother seems to have given up on the makeup for now, but she made me do my hair up before I left. The only good that came from that is that when I got to Sigmun and Dolora's, Sigmun said my hair looked lovely. He asked why it was done up all nice and I told him it was Mother, but I did it myself. I think it was very sweet of him to say that, especially because I have awful hair and doing it up doesn't really do much. Simonn noticed, too, but he just asked why I'd spent the time to do my hair up unless I was meeting a boy or something. He did that on purpose, I know it.

"I'm not meeting a boy!"

"Oh? Do you love someone?" Simonn asked.

"Shut up. I'm not telling you!" He knows already.

"Why not?" Sigmun complained.

"Because you wouldn't shut up about it!"

"Not fair!"

"You didn't tell me."

Sigmun sighed jokingly and said, "Fine. But I get to choose the book!"

"You chose yesterday!" Simonn said. "It's Dianna's turn."

I chose a "bodice-ripper" romance just to annoy Simonn. I like that sort of book, anyways. Poor Simonn; he looked irritated the entire time (we've never read a book like that before) and I just made a face because I know he was trying to get me to confess to Sigmun that he was the only boy I wanted to meet anywhere. I really hate Simonn sometimes. (But not really.)

11 February 1612

Mother let me go without a fight today. She's awfully inconsistent, especially when it comes to me. At least I can count on her to be hateful towards me. I wish I could do something to fix myself so she'd love me. On one level, I know she's wrong in yelling at me and drinking so she forgets me, but also I know that there must be reasons she yells at me, and sometimes (times when I am scrubbing my face clean to reveal those red blotches, or when I need Dolora's help to brush my hair) I know I'm in the wrong. I wish I could tell someone but Sigmun and Simonn wouldn't understand. They're men; men don't have to worry so much about things like that. Anyways, they're not in the wrong; their parents love them.

We studied chemistry today and I think chemistry must be connected to Dolora's medical treatments somehow. I just don't know how.

12 February 1612

Beauty is funny to me. It's so ephemeral and so contrived and so enviable. A certain set of characteristics are considered beautiful and if you don't fit that, you can't possibly be lovely the way another girl is. It's like you have to make yourself into a nice little porcelain doll or no one will love you. And while I know that's certainly not okay, because a lot of people do deserve love, I know that if I don't fit those standards, I won't be loved. And I can't fit it because as much as I try, I just can't be beautiful and I know I never will be.

It is rather discouraging.

We studied a novel today, one that was written to make a point, and the point was about how important it is to get the right sort of education. I think the right sort of education is different for everyone. Sigmun and Simonn and I have this sort of choice education. Dolora went to school, but I wonder where she got her real education, because a girl's education isn't like a boy's education. No one tells a girl she can be clever, anyways. Anyways, Neolla's going to have a school education, and Mariek's is mostly on her own, without someone like Dolora to help be a teacher. Hannah can read, but it's a secret, so she doesn't much. I don't know if she can write. I just think education is different for different people.

13 February 1612

I had such a headache today, and I think it's because I didn't sleep, because I had that damn nightmare again. In this one, I was sitting on the edge of the river with Sigmun and I dived in first, but I couldn't stay afloat. He dived in after me and I tried to hold onto him, but he shoved me into the current and I was struggling to stay afloat and he laughed and taunted, "What, you can't stand the current? You're ugly and no one will ever love you! You should just let the current kill you!" I slipped under, but he shoved me away and laughed while I drowned and then I woke up and I was terrified.

We studied Russian language today and I really like languages. They're just very interesting.

14 February 1612

We read a chapter of an adventure novel today and I really liked it, and Simonn and Sigmun did too. That's one thing we can all agree on: novels. They're very good.

15 February 1612

I had the nightmare again and I'm upset because it was awful. In this one, he made fun of me because of how awful I look, my ugly face and hair and the red blotches and my awful shape and a whole lot of other things I hate about myself. I woke up even more upset than usual.

We studied a book of laws today and it was confusing, but I liked it. It was interesting.

16 February 1612

Today has proved to me that people in general can be awful. I don't mean all people, but it seems to me that when people get together and one of them isn't nice, a whole bunch of very nice people don't do very nice things at all.

But people can also be excellent. And kind. And brave. And maybe I'm one of the brave ones.

I wasn't at Sigmun and Dolora's for long because I had to find paprika and cooking knives in the market and it was hard. So I left early and headed for the market, which is where all of this happened.

I finally found everything I needed just when it was getting dark and I headed for home, but I thought I heard Sigmun shouting something, so I turned to see if it was him. And it was him, but he was surrounded by a bunch of men in an alley and I thought he was bleeding. I could see him kind of…I don't want to say cowering, but he kind of was cowering against the wall. They were shouting things like "bastard" and other words I don't want to write. I heard him say, "G-Get away from me!" and he sounded properly afraid and really, who wouldn't be; he was surrounded by at least seven men, all much taller than him, and when you've lost that much blood, the world doesn't seem the way it is. I don't know what exactly I was thinking, but I shoved one of them aside and stood in front of Sigmun and said, "GET AWAY FROM HIM!"

One of them sneered at me and said, "Aw, poor little girl. This your little boyfriend?"

"He's my best friend and if you don't leave him alone I'm not afraid to hurt you!"

"Oh, really? How?"

It is some beautiful, miraculous coincidence that I still had the cooking knives Mother told me to buy. I pulled one of them out of the canvas bag I always bring shopping and I didn't even say anything.

One of them smirked and said, "Do you even know how to use that, sugar?"

The others started jeering at me, too, so I had to say something.

"I've got a few ideas." I tightened my grip on the knife and I tried to sound menacing and I was scared, because I think if it really came down to it, I wouldn't use the knife. I couldn't.

But I guess I looked pretty scary, because I'm sure my anger was in my eyes and I know how to hold a knife (not because I use knives to hurt people but because I cook). They dispersed pretty quickly and I dropped the knife (I better wash it before Mother finds out) and tilted Sigmun's head so I could see if he was hurt. "Are you alright? Sigmun, are you okay?"

"Dianna?"

"It's me, Sigmun." Dolora once told me that you can hit your head hard enough to hurt your mind, so I tested his memory. "What's your name? Full name? Age?"

"Sigmun Vantas…sixteen."

"Uh…conjugate avoir in passé composé."

"What? Why?"

"Just do it."

"J'ai eu, tu as eu, il elle on a eu, nous avons eu, vous avez eu, ils elles ont eu. There."

"Okay, good. Come on," I helped him up and said, "We're going to your house. Your remember where it is, right?"

"Of course I do. Why?"

"I'm making sure you didn't hit your head hard enough to lose your memory."

"Oh."

There was far too much blood on his clothes and in his hair and I was worried. I put one of his arms around my shoulders and supported his waist (because he's gotten too tall for me to just carry him like I used to be able to) and I made sure he was conscious because I know it can be dangerous to fall asleep like that. I could tell he was barely keeping himself in one piece and I honestly wasn't thinking about Mother or anything else but making sure he was alright.

We were near the square when a man I've never met before ran over to me and said, "What happened? Do you need help?"

"I need to get my best friend home," I said. "He was attacked."

The man nodded and put Sigmun's other arm around his shoulders and supported his waist like I was and helped me half-carry him to Dolora's. "Dianna?" Sigmun murmured.

"Don't talk, okay? You need your breath."

"…Okay."

We got to Dolora and Sigmun's and I knocked on the door as best as I could and I really was afraid because he seemed about ready to fall apart and the light from their house made the blood even more obvious.

Dolora opened the door and I could see that it took everything she had not to scream. She covered her mouth with one hand and I said, "There were these men attacking him so I scared them away with a knife and…"

Dolora nodded and helped me carry Sigmun inside. The man just left before I could tell him thank you.

Once she'd gotten him situated on the couch like she does so she can figure out what's wrong, she sent me for herbs and water. I know where the herb cupboard is and where the water is, so I was quick. When I came back, he was crying and she was comforting him. "Dianna, willow and—no, not willow. Just some bandages and turmeric."

I nodded and watched while she worked like she always did, serious and solemn and a bit detached. "Valerian root, Dianna, and a cup of water. Go make a cup of chamomile tea."

I nodded again and went to make the tea, probably to help him sleep. I think Dolora knows more about being a doctor than most of the men with degrees because her herbs actually work very well and I don't know anyone who knows more about medicine, just from watching.

Anyways, Dolora kind of muttered like she does and I heard, "Broken arm, definitely. Sprained wrist. Partial fracture in the forearm…multiple lacerations on the head and limbs. You're lucky they didn't hurt anything vital, little love." Her tone switched from medical and detached to gentle and kind like someone snuffing out a candle.

"Dianna, stay right here. Make sure he doesn't fall asleep. Is the tea brewing?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Good. I'm mixing up some herbs to help with the blood loss and pain."

I nodded and pulled up another chair next to him.

"Hey," I said, trying my best to sound kind. "You alright?"

He was still crying a little and I could see why. He had at least two broken bones and a sprain or two and there was a lot of blood. I don't mind the sight of blood, but I can't stand the smell. It smells like death and decay and pain and shame and everything that hurts. "…I'm fine."

"No you're not," I said, and I tried to smile but I couldn't. "What happened?" I figured if he was talking, maybe he wouldn't fall asleep. I was afraid he'd die.

"I was just walking…I was walking home and I took the shortcut through the alley…then suddenly there were all these people around me and one of them…threw me against the wall and…they started hitting me and calling me a bastard and some other…things like that and I couldn't do anything because…there were so many of them and…then you showed up and…you saved my life."

"Any time." I think I cried a tear or two. I was definitely choked up. I took his hand in both of mine and I could feel that his skin was colder than it should've been. "You'll be okay, I promise. Just don't fall asleep."

"But I'm tired."

"I know. But you can't fall asleep."

"Why not?"

"Because…Dolora said so. You just can't fall asleep."

"I'm so tired…"

"Hey," I said. "How about you tell me a story?"

"You've lived most every story I could tell."

"That doesn't matter. How about you tell me the story of…of the time we were eight and we first found the river? That's a good story."

"You were there, though…"

"But I want to hear it again."

"Well…okay." I could barely hear his voice, and I could still hear the tears. "We were eight and we were excited…because we'd found the clearing with the pine tree, Simonn and you and me…and we decided to explore the woods a bit more. And then…just when we were about to head home, you said you heard water…So we followed the sound—" He coughed and I saw blood still staining his bandages. "And we found that huge, rushing river. So naturally…my first thought was to dive in." He laughed a little and I remembered that day clear as the sun. "Simonn yelled at me not to, but I did anyways and you followed me and…we were so lucky that day because both of us landed in that eddy. And then…Simonn dived in and we barely floated around but we had started…swimming properly." I felt his grip on my hand tighten. "It didn't go so well the second time." He tried to laugh, but he ended up coughing instead.

"Are you alright, Sigmun?"

"…I know you won't believe me if I say I'm fine."

"You're bleeding and broken. Of course I wouldn't believe you."

"Well, then, I guess…I'm not okay, but at least I'm not alone."

I smiled properly and squeezed his hand tighter. I saw his eyes flutter a little and he coughed that heavy, bloodstained cough again. "…You're really pretty," he said, his voice slipping a little out of consciousness.

"You're delirious." I said flatly.

"'M not…"

Dolora came back with some herb mix and a cup of tea. "Dianna, you can't go home, it's too dark out."

"I have to, though. My mother…"

Dolora sighed. "Are you sure? It's not safe."

"I have to go home."

"I'd offer to walk you, Dianna dear, but…" She looked over at Sigmun, who she obviously couldn't leave.

"S'alright. I promise I'll be careful."

Dolora sighed again. "Alright, Dianna dear. But come over tomorrow so I know you're okay."

"I will, I promise."

I got home and Mother glared at me and she told me in that scary tone that she'd deal with me tomorrow. It's very late now and I'm tired and honestly I can't believe I did that. What was I thinking? How…how did I have the courage to do something like that? I'm not brave, and I'm definitely not some sort of hero. I'm just me and I…I saved Sigmun's life.

What on Earth has gotten into me?

17 February 1612

I don't think it's fair that those men attacked Sigmun just because he doesn't have a father. It's not his fault his parents weren't married, and it's not his fault his birth mother abandoned him, and he certainly doesn't deserve to be attacked just for being born.

I've got a nasty bruise on my cheek from Mother slapping me. But it'll heal before long; I've had worse. It's not that noticeable, anyways. And it's nothing compared to Sigmun!

I was early today, and Simonn late, so I was sitting with Sigmun (who had been forbidden to move from the couch) and reading a book of poetry when Simonn came in. He of course had no idea about the attack last night and when he saw Sigmun with all those bandages and some blood still in his hair, he looked pretty panicked. Of course he did; it's the only reasonable reaction in that situation, I think.

"What the hell happened?"

I looked at Sigmun. I wasn't about to tell his story.

"Well...a group of men kind of attacked me when I was going for spices in the village yesterday and then Dianna scared them off and helped get me home. That's all."

"That's all. You got attacked by some idiots who probably had weapons and you toss off a sentence and say, 'That's all'?"

"...Yeah."

There was a pause. The Simonn asked. "Did you cry?"

"No," Sigmun said. Liar. I gave him a look when Simonn wasn't paying attention, but I didn't really mean it.

Simonn rolled his eyes and sat against the bookshelf like he does. "So what're we reading?"

"Poetry," I said. "Your turn."

"Seriously? This again?"

"It's good poetry," I argued. "I put up with your physics obsession."

"You're one to talk about obsessions."

"Shut up."

"What d'you mean?" Sigmun asked.

"Nothing," I said. "We were on page fifty-three, Simonn."

We read the poetry book for the rest of the day, even though Simonn groaned and complained about it the whole time. Dolora had to change the bandages on Sigmun's cuts once, and I suspect it's a lot worse than he's letting on, if the bloodstains on his cloak and the side of my dress he was pressed against are anything to go by. But then, he'd never just tell us if he was really hurt. It seems to me that men do that a rather lot, and I don't know why. I certainly don't think of my friends any different if they cry. Everyone cries; there's nothing shameful about it. Then again, what do I know?

18 February 1612

It's been that sort of day. I had the nightmare again last night, and another one on top of that. This time, when I usually wake up breathing hard, instead I felt the pressure on me lessen and I snapped awake and I thought it was over. I thought I was awake in real life, so I got dressed and finger-brushed my hair and checked in the mirror to make sure I looked halfway decent and ate breakfast and grabbed my cloak off the hook and walked over to Sigmun and Dolora's.

When I got there, the house was gone. I mean, where their house always is was an empty field. The garden was gone, the fence around the garden to keep out bunnies was gone, the footpath from the back door to the woods that we've worn down over the years was gone, even the deer trail that takes us to the hills was gone. So I ran to the clearing with the pine tree for some reason and there were three gravestones with their names on them and a fourth next to an empty pit. I was about to run when someone or something shoved me into the pit and started pouring dirt on me until I couldn't scream, I couldn't even breathe.

Then I woke up for real and actually went through my whole morning routine like I do. It should've been a clue to me in the dream that it was dream that my journal was on my desk. I never, ever leave my journal out. I've got more sense than that!

I got to Sigmun and Dolora's and Simonn and Sigmun were having one of those conversations again and when I walked in, Sigmun jumped and Simonn shut up and they both looked at me like I'd interrupted something and they just didn't want to let on and I felt like the odd one out again and I just feel so lonely. I don't even remember what we studied today. I just want to sleep my memories away.

19 February 1612

I had the nightmare yet again last night. This time, it was already storming when we were swimming, and it was my hair that felt heavy and dragged me down. When I tried to hang onto Sigmun, he grabbed my hair and started pulling it and it was unbearable, but eventually my head sank below the surface and this time I almost liked the feeling of water cooling my flaming scalp. But then he started pulling my hair again, like he was determined to yank it out, and I felt a chunk tear off and I tasted blood and I couldn't breathe and I woke up breathing hard. I checked three times in the mirror to make sure I still had all my hair, and when Sigmun reached around me to get a book and his hand brushed my hair, I jumped back pretty violently because I know it's dumb, but I just don't want anyone touching my hair right now.

Oh, and my lovely friends were having another one of their conversations today and I figured I might as well ask, so I did, but they said they couldn't tell me. Couldn't tell me, what a stupid lie. I can tell when my friends are lying! Who do they think they're kidding?

We studied chemistry today, some rules about gasses. It was fascinating and I liked it.

20 February 1612

No nightmare last night. Another whispered conversation. Another look like I've walked into some place I shouldn't be. It's been a long day and Mother was angry at me again because I was wearing clothes that she thought were unflattering, and of course I hadn't done up my bodice right, and my face was awful, and couldn't I do something about the red blotches everyone has for a while when they're younger, and my hair was so awful, and if I couldn't just be obedient and submissive like a woman is supposed to? I feel so useless. I feel like a failure. I know I'll never be what Mother wants to be, and I'll never be what I should be.

21 February 1612

I wonder why Mother ever bothered adopting me sometimes. Then I remember my very young days, when I went to the market with Mother and she'd hold my little hand so I wouldn't get lost and we'd walk around to the stores and she'd let me pick out one nice little thing, maybe I could choose between onions and carrots or between green and red, or something like that, and she'd smile. I sometimes remember Mother's smile and I wonder why she thinks smiling is so wrong for women.

We studied Russian history today and I liked it. The language was lovely and the history was interesting.

22 February 1612

They were whispering again and it's just really getting under my skin. I feel left out and I feel lonely and I feel unwanted and even though I know I'm unloved and unlovable, I'd like to think my friends like me, or at least tolerate me.

We studied the last chapter of the adventure novel and it was just this sweet little conclusion in which the hero marries the heroine and it's all sweet, except that it made a very clear statement that the heroine was not clever enough to handle herself and she became a damsel in distress. We finished it and there was this silence from all of us.

"I liked it till the end," Sigmun said from the couch.

"The ending was kind of awful," Simonn added.

"The ending was absolutely no good," I agreed. "Let's read a better book."

"Yeah," Simonn agreed. They may be keeping secrets from me, but we can all agree that damsels in distress aren't nearly as interesting as a proper character who happens to be a woman. Heaven forbid a woman have a personality.

23 February 1612

I had three dreams last night: one of the nightmares (in this one, he teased me for how stupid I am and how shallow I am and I fell under myself, but he held me there), one dream about having a sister, and one dream about the two girls. In this dream, the older girl was almost crying and she just kept repeating, "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."

I still don't know what she's thanking me for.

We studied a new novel and this one doesn't have any women in it at all, and I can't decide whether I prefer no women or women with no real character.

24 February 1612

They were whispering again and even when I left the room, they were whispering! I hate it! I just hate it.

25 February 1612

We studied Russian today and we got to adjectives. It's not as complicated as some, but it is a little tricky. On the other hand, isn't everything?

26 February 1612

I've been so tired lately, I've been writing hardly anything in this little journal. I've just been dreaming and waking a lot, not to mention I can't get to sleep until late because Mother's been drinking and throwing bottles recently. She's been doing it more and more often and it's very saddening. I sometimes think her life would be so much better if I wasn't in it. Then I start wondering if everyone's life would be better if I wasn't around at all.

27 February 1612

We studied Prussian history today and I thought it was halfway interesting. I love watching Sigmun's face when he's reading. It's so handsome. I love how clever he is and I love how interested he gets in things and I love how much he cares about people and even though he and Simonn are being mean and keeping secrets, I still…I still love him.

28 February 1612

I am determined to get a good night's sleep tonight. Last night, Mother was sick from drinking and she kept yelling at me to get her bread and water and then she started vomiting and then she started drinking again and saying how useless her daughter was and why did she ever bother to adopt that stupid, disobedient girl and no one understood how hard it was to have a daughter who was a failure.

And then she said a few things about her husband and how much she missed him and how much she wished she had her own children and I wanted to cry because I know Mother's heart is broken and I don't think anyone deserves a broken heart, but she's just so mean to me.

We studied math today, geometry to be specific, and we did some proofs. I don't like proofs, and neither does Sigmun, but Simonn does. And they were whispering again today when I came over and I'm just very upset about the whole thing.

29 February 1612

Oh my goodness. I shouldn't have left the house today. I should've stayed home. I was already in a bad mood when I went to Dolora and Sigmun's because I was tired and they were whispering again and Dolora had that knowing smile and...I just couldn't take it anymore and I snapped.

"Am I interrupting something?"

"What? No," Sigmun said.

"Oh, sorry, it's just that you 'can't tell me'."

"What are you talking about?" Simonn pressed.

"Every time I come over here, you two are whispering like a couple of ten-year-olds and the second I walk in, you shut up! Do you think I don't know when my friends-sorry, am I allowed to call you friends?-don't want me around?!"

"What?" Sigmun asked again.

"I'm not an idiot, I know when I'm not wanted! I was never more than a stupid girl anyways! I am sick to death of you two always keeping secrets you 'can't' tell me! I know you think I'm stupid and I know you don't give a damn about me but would it kill you to at least not keep secrets? What, is it because I'm a girl? Am I going to spread it around? Or am I just too weak to handle it? I'm sick of it and I hate it and I hate you!"

They just kind of stared at me. I can't take being stared at, so I spun around and ran out and slammed to door behind me and ran into the woods. There are places I know that no one else does where I knew I could hide and wait out the rest of the day.

I climbed a tree to this one spot no one can see me from and rested for a minute. A second later, I heard Sigmun and Simonn come outside and shout, "Dianna! Dianna?" But I hadn't left footprints and I didn't want to be found. I'm good at that, ironically enough.

I jumped from my tree to one a few over, then another. I made it to this rock pile we found once with a little cave inside only I know about because only I can fit inside. I heard Sigmun and Simonn looking around for me a bit more before I guess they gave up. I spent the rest of the day in that cave and...I was crying. When it started getting dark, I headed home and Mother didn't even notice me.

I just lost my two best friends. What am I going to do?

**A/N: Please review! It really means a lot to me. Thanks for reading, even though the chapters are long. This will probably update about once every three weeks because of Science Olympiad and the long chapters. **


	4. March-April, 1612

**A/N: If this chapter is a little slow, I'm sorry. Believe me when I say that shit goes down in the next chapter. **

1 March 1612

I wanted to hide in my cave again today, but I was so bored yesterday just hiding. Pretty much the only thing I can do for hours on end is read (and sleep, but that's different), so I kind of had no choice but to go to Dolora and Sigmun's house. I planned on walking in, taking a novel, and walking out again, but that didn't work. I succeeded in the first two steps, but while I was leaving, Sigmun stopped me and asked me if I was okay and I didn't want to tell him that I just feel really lonely a lot and I tried to get out but…I don't know. I just didn't want to talk about it. I felt really guilty for yelling at them and I guess I know it was unfair, but I feel like they don't care about me and they're the only people I know who did do.

The reason I wrote do is because I gave up trying to escape and forced a smile and said, "I'm fine."

"Right."

"Will you just drop it?" I snapped.

"I was just gonna say sorry, jeez," he said, all defensive and tense. "Cuz of the thing…I'm not keeping any secrets from you."

"Yeah right."

"Really! No secrets, at all. I'd tell you any secrets I might have, anyways."

"Except who you love."

"I…That's different."

"How?"

"You're going to have to trust me when I say it is," he snapped. "Just…trust me on this, okay?"

"Trust you." I was a little dubious.

"Isn't that what friends do?"

That was harsh. "Fine. I'll take your word for it. But friends don't keep secrets, either."

"I said I wouldn't! Simonn sure isn't."

"He is kind of an open book, isn't he?" I acknowledged, and I smiled a little.

"Yeah…" Sigmun started laughing a little and I laughed a little more and then we just kept laughing and I felt a little better because…I guess I'll just trust him for now. I'm sure there is a reason he's not telling me. I guess he's probably too shy. What can I say about being too shy to tell someone something?

Anyways, I guess they never really meant to do that to me. I guess they do at least care about a little, and considering Mother, that's very nice to know.

2 March 1612

I think my favorite thing in the world is to feel loved. I like how warm and safe and protected it feels. I crave it; I crave the feeling of being loved after so long being unlovable. There's no use in loving me; I don't know why my friends bother. I have nothing to offer. But that doesn't mean I don't want to be loved. It certainly doesn't mean I don't want to love. I love with all my heart; I don't see a point in feeling anything halfway. I love without expecting to be loved. It's just very nice, being loved back.

We studied a novel today and Sigmun walked around a bit. I hope he'll feel better by the time the snow melts and we can go into the forest more often again.

3 March 1612

We studied Prussian history today and I think Prussia's army is almost too large to be practical. But then, I don't know anything about running a country. Maybe Prussia needs a ridiculously large army, for whatever reason.

4 March 1612

Apparently Sigmun tried to go to the creek the other day (the one by the clearing with the pine tree in it, the one by the berry patch), so today Dolora put his cloak away so he can't go outside without freezing. He's crazy if he thinks he should be spending time outside. A sprained ankle takes time to heal.

We studied Russian today and it's slowly getting easier. Writing in Russian is harder than I expected, considering the new alphabet. I think I'll just keep my journal in English for now.

5 March 1612

Simonn's tense; I can tell. His mother isn't feeling too well and his parents will make him take care of his siblings soon. They all adore him; it's rather sweet. But I can tell it makes him stressed and worried, and I think I would be, too, if I had to take care of four children under the age of twelve for two weeks at least. He says he'll find time to come learn and work on our projects, but I know he'll be gone for a few days. I have completely different family problems from Simonn and I can't even imagine how much stress it must put on him. Besides that, his mother must be under a lot of pressure, too. Because first of all, if the child is a stillborn or dies young, it's her fault. Then, if she loses her job or Simonn's father loses his job because of the baby, it's still her fault. And if, after all that, after labor and giving birth and raising another child (because Simonn's father isn't around much, though that's because he works on a farm), one of the other children doesn't end up in a respectable career, it's still her fault. Why is it always her fault? It's always her fault, never his fault. Never mind that it's not her fault if he gets fired. It's not her fault if one of Simonn's siblings drinks her or his life away. It's no one's fault but the people directly involved.

So why is it always her fault?

6 March 1612

Mother told me to at least try to fix my shape and told me I should eat less food because heaven _forbid_ I eat a filling meal. If I eat a filling meal, then I'm ruining my already awful shape and was I growing on purpose just to be an awful daughter because I couldn't possibly be a good daughter. I just couldn't be a good daughter, I'm too ugly and disobedient and headstrong and useless and hopeless.

I know it's wrong, but sometimes I don't care anymore if I'm not a good daughter. Sometimes, I dare to think that someday, when I'm grown up and Mother's long gone, I won't have to worry about being a good daughter and maybe I'll feel happy.

7 March 1612

We studied Russian today. It was quite fun. And we also planned things to do once it gets warm out. Simonn challenged us to another stay-the-whole-night-in-the-woods overnight. It's probably worth pointing out that none of us have ever successfully spent the whole night in the woods. Last time, Sigmun and I went out to get some berries and we came back and Simonn was gone so we ran back because we thought there were wolves or ghosts or something, and then he came back because he'd gone for water and we were gone when he got back. Does that count as irony?

Then we also planned to work on the bridge, go swimming, gather enough berries for jam, and speak Russian. We usually just speak English to each other, but other languages for practice. My mind can flip through languages easily and quickly, so I can translate or just suddenly start talking in Italian better than my friends can. What a useless "talent".

8 March 1612

My friends are such idiots sometimes. Today, after we read a chapter of a novel, Sigmun said wouldn't it be fun to go skating. Which it would be, except it wasn't that cold out and obviously the ice was part melted, and his ankle is mostly healed, but not all the way. But Sigmun and Simonn went anyways and I wasn't about to let them drown, so I went to and climbed the tree branch by the bridge and waited for someone to fall in.

Simonn didn't go out on the ice as far as Sigmun, so he didn't fall in. Sigmun did, though, when the ice cracked under him, and Simonn had to pull him out. Sigmun was soaking wet and rather grumpy-looking when he finally got out of the water and I felt bad for laughing, but I couldn't help it.

9 March 1612

I had the nightmare again last night. I don't even want to write about it right now, and that's rare for me. It's just very stressful.

I find myself staring at him these days, and sometimes, I find myself fixating on his lips and wondering what it'd be like to feel them against mine. I've felt his warmth and his skin near mine, when we sit next to each other or when his hand brushes mine or when we try to spend the night in the woods and it's dark and quiet and cold except for our linked hands and heavy, nervous breathing, and I adore the feeling. Sometimes, I wonder about how I'd sleep if I were to sleep next to him. I think I'd sleep well with his arms around me and my head resting on my chest. I don't think he'd mind if I curled up like I do to sleep, and I know I wouldn't mind those cute little snores I remember from when I spend the night at their house. He's always been very kind to me (I can't forget on All Saint's Day when I had that awful nightmare) and there's no reason he wouldn't be so nice if we were married.

I certainly hope so.

10 March 1612

I don't understand what's so wrong with crying. Everyone cries sometimes, when they're sad or in pain or angry or under stress, and there's nothing wrong with that. Why do people always act like crying is shameful or something only weak people do? Even the strongest people I know cry sometimes, and it's because everybody cries and I just don't understand. I think crying is probably better than a lot of things, actually, because you don't just hold everything in.

We studied algebra today and it wasn't too bad. In fact, I rather liked it.

11 March 1612

We went to the village today in the afternoon and I saw all my girl friends, except Candas. It was nice to talk to them again. Neolla's planning is getting ever more complex as the day she visits the school for the first time draws nearer. Mariek's mother is growing sicker and she'll have to live with her aunt and uncle soon if her mother doesn't recover. I feel so bad for Mariek; her mother is the only adult in her family who loves her. Oh, and Hannah's father had her older sister marry the old man from Austria. So she's safe for now. But she'll be next, because her other sisters are younger. Hannah was almost in tears when she told me and I suspect that she and her sisters cling to each other because they have no one else. I did my best to comfort her and I hope she feels better. Poor Hannah; how awful it must be to know you'll never your sisters again. I almost miss the sister I never really had sometimes. I can't imagine losing a sibling you've already known.

12 March 1612

We practiced grammar today and I've never encountered a single more boring subject. Dolora says some old monks wrote down most of English and I wish they'd come up with more sensible grammar. On the other hand, ours is a fluid language and I guess the nonsense just happened somehow, over the years.

13 March 1612

Another one of those dreams. In this one, the storm drowned me, but in the thunder I could hear Sigmun's voice taunting me, shouting how stupid and ugly and useless I am, and I was so afraid, and I woke up with a scream hiding just behind my lips. I'm glad it didn't escape; Mother would've been so upset. I don't want to get her angry. She's always angry, but when her anger is directed at me more intensely, it can be very scary.

We practiced Russian today and it's slowly getting easier. I guess that's how things work.

14 March 1612

I had a dream about the two girls I don't quite know last night. This time, it was younger girl who addressed me directly, and she kept asking me questions. At least, I think she did. It's hard to tell, but there was something in her mannerisms and the incoherent whispers I could barely hear that suggested questions. The younger girl finally fell back and stood with the older girl, who was almost crying. Her baby was reaching for her face like children do and she seemed to barely notice. I still don't understand them, why or how or who.

Oh, and we studied Austrian history today. The way things are going there, I hope Hannah's sister is safe.

15 March 1612

Mother threatened me with makeup again, but I escaped (barely) by telling her I don't know how to put it on properly. Which is a lie, but somehow she believed me, at least halfway. Anyways, I got to Sigmun and Dolora's today and we studied the new novel. It was quite good.

16 March 1612

My friends are still idiots, it seems. Well, Sigmun is sometimes. Because what person in their right mind would climb the tallest pine tree in the middle of our clearing, in the rain (it was storming today), with a healing ankle, and try to get to the top? He just said it would be fun, but even Simonn tried to talk him out of it. But he climbed that stupid tree anyways and we had to follow him because he'd hurt himself. So the three of us wound up in the clearing, in the pouring rain, and Sigmun easily climbed to the top of the tree. "Hey! See, I'm fine! Nothing's gonna happen!" (Famous last words.) His smile fell as he did, along with the branch he was standing on. A huge snap that sounded like thunder hit my ears and I almost panicked.

"What do we do?" Simonn yelled, rather uselessly I think. For some insane, half-thought-out reason, I ran under where he was falling and I held out my arms and I barely caught him. But I did, and I thought my arms were going to break. But they didn't, and I held him stand up. And then we had to walk the half-mile or more back home in the rain.

"Sorry…"Sigmun said while we were walking back.

"Yeah," Simonn said. "That was not smart. In fact, it was pretty moronic."

"I said sorry, what else am I supposed to do?" Sigmun snapped. "It seemed like a good idea when I suggested it…"

"Stop arguing, guys," I interrupted, rolling my eyes. They don't fight for real often (though they have many not-fights), so I'd rather avoid it. "Let's just go get dried off."

So we all sat by the fire and tried to dry off. My hair didn't dry completely by the time I had to walk home, so I felt like I'd gone swimming or taken a bath fully clothed by the time I was home. I suppose Sigmun's always been a bit reckless. (A lot reckless.) I think it's alright sometimes (otherwise we'd never have found the eddy), but more often, it just gets all of us in trouble.

It's been a long day.

17 March 1612

I didn't sleep much last night. I kept having nightmares. I had nightmares of Mother and of Father and of Sigmun and Simonn and Dolora and all my other friends, and of course I had my nightmare that I always have. I didn't even get a very good dream, one of Sigmun and I swimming or in the woods or maybe even reading, just one good dream to lessen the blow of my nightmares. It happens sometimes. But I wonder what it'd be like if I had a mother who would comfort me when I had such a horrible dream. Ever since I can remember, Mother's yelled at me if I had a nightmare. Even if I didn't wake her up, but told her in the morning, she'd tell me I'd done something awful and wrong and it was my fault. But when I was younger and Sigmun had nightmares, he said Dolora would comfort him. Even Simonn says his father did so. Mother just yells. It's all she's ever done.

We studied some British history today. It was quite interesting.

18 March 1612

Simonn's mother is going to have her baby soon, in about a week Simonn says. He looked rather nervous and I feel bad for him. His mother could easily die, or I guess his new sister could die, too, but he says she won't die until she's three. It's still all very scary.

We studied more British history today. It was still interesting, but some of the kings seem a little crazy.

19 March 1612

We studied Russian today. I think I'm getting better at the language, though I'm not entirely sure Simonn is. Sigmun certainly is learning something. Dolora sort of knows Russian, so she helped us a little before she had to leave for work.

20 March 1612

Simonn only stayed for a couple hours today, and he was tense. It was obvious. Dolora made him one of her cups of tea and he hardly drank any. Poor Simonn.

21 March 1612

Simonn's tension is contagious; all three of us were a little on edge today. He had another cup of tea, too. We just read the novel until it was dark and we all had to head home.

22 March 1612

I'm feeling incredibly flustered because I really didn't intend to be sitting in the same room as Sigmun, and just Sigmun, for an entire day, including staying for dinner, and I really didn't mean to almost blurt out how much I love him. But Simonn was busy with his siblings and Dolora's the midwife so she was in town, so it was just Sigmun and I today and I just felt rather flustered about spending my whole day with him, and just him. It's happened before, of course, but Dolora usually comes home and I've never spent dinner with just him. Also, I've never really cooked with someone else before (Mother won't let me help and when she's out or drinking I make dinner myself) and that was interesting to say the least. It felt very close and I know I should've been thinking about Simonn and his mother and everyone, but all I could worry about was how shy I felt and how much I wanted to just tell him and get it off my shoulders, but I couldn't. I can never tell him because I know he'll never love me back, and I just couldn't bear it.

So I just pretended I was fine like I always do and I know he didn't buy it, but he didn't press, either. And I guess that's good, because I felt so guilty about the whole thing, because I should've been worrying about Simonn and his family, and because I know it's my fault, and because I just really hate all this stress and pressure and for the life of me, all I want is to run away from home and maybe be happy for once in my life.

23 March 1612

I didn't expect Simonn to come at all today, and I certainly didn't expect him to come by with all four of his siblings.

"Mama wanted me to take them out of the house," Simonn said. "So...here we are. I didn't know where else to take them."

"Uh…" Sigmun said, staring at the four kids we'd only met through Simonn's stories. Richard, Thomas, Robert, and Isabella. "What do we do?"

"Hey, Richard, let go of Thomas. Isabella-Izzy!"

"I don't like Izzy!"

"Then listen to me, all of you. We're going to go play in a pretty clearing with a big tree. This is Dianna and Sigmun. Listen to them, alright? They're my friends."

"Okay, Simmie!" Robert called, giggling. Simonn sighed.

"Simmie?" Isabella asked, tugging on his arm. "Are we gonna have a yummy lunch?"

"Uh...yeah! We will. We'll have a picnic. How does that sound?"

The four of them grinned and Thomas said, "Yeah! That sounds yummy!"

"Great! Okay…" He looked at me and I nodded. "Dianna will take you to the clearing. I'll be right there."

So I led the four of them to the clearing with the pine tree in the middle, even though it was chilly out (it is March). At least it didn't rain. Richard and Thomas climbed the tree quickly, and Roger was quick behind them (I can tell the difference: Richard is the tallest, Thomas is the only one with blonde hair, and Roger is the only one with blue eyes.) But Isabella sat next to me with her big brown eyes and asked me, "You're name's Dianna, right?"

"Mm-hmm."

"I'm Isabella. Uh, good to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too, Isabella. How old are you?"

"Five."

"I'm sixteen."

"You're really old," she said. "How comes you're big like Simmie?"

I laughed. "He's sixteen, too. You'll be big, too, someday."

"Then I can get married and have babies. That's what Mama says."

I didn't know what to say. I wanted to tell her that she didn't have to get married if she didn't want to, but I didn't know how.

"Dianna? How comes my brothers are gonna work and maybe do school and I can't?"

"You can go to school, Isabella. You're just as clever as they are."

"But Papa says...Papa says girls can't be clever."

"Then he's wrong. What does Simonn say?"

"Simonn says I'm clever as Tommy and Rich and Rob."

"And who do you trust more?"

She looked down. "I'm supposed to trust Papa."

"But who do you trust?"

"Simmie," she whispered. "Cuz he cares about me more'n Papa."

"Hey, that's alright. My mama doesn't care about me a lot, so I trust other people more."

"Really?"

"Really. You can go to school if you want. Are you learning to read?"

She looked around. "It's a secret."

"You can tell me. I won't tell anyone."

"I'm learning how to read and write."

"Wow! I bet you're really good at it."

"Tommy says I am. Rob says he's the best."

"I bet you're the best," I said, and she smiled in response.

"Can you read and write?" she asked me.

"Yep."

"That's really fun."

"It sure is. Do you want to climb the tree with your brothers?"

"I do...but what if they push me?"

"They wouldn't."

"But if they do?"

"Push them back. They're siblings."

"They'll get mad."

"That's okay. It's okay to stand up for yourself."

She looked up at me, then at the tree.

"I'll help you up," I added.

"Okay," she finally said. I helped her into the tree and let her climb away.

Simonn and Sigmun showed up a bit later, with a basket full of a lunch. "Where's Isabella?" Simonn asked.

"In the tree."

"What? She's going to get hurt, Dianna! What the hell?"

"She'll be fine. Your brothers won't hurt her."

"That's not what I'm worried about! I'm teaching them about people being equal as best as I can and they know not to hurt anyone. She's just not tall enough to reach the far branches."

"Simonn, calm down," Sigmun said. "We'll be right here and we've got Mama."

Simonn took a deep breath. "Okay. Fine. But if any of them fall, it's your fault."

"Mine or Dianna's?"

"Both of yours."

I grinned. "Simonn. I know you're worried, but they adore you. They'd never do something you told them not to do."

"Yeah right," he scoffed, but he started blushing. "They do all the time. Believe me."

"Something serious," I said. "Isabella trusts you more than your father."

"Good," Simonn said dismissively. "Our father says girls can't be smart. As far as I know, they all trust me on that particular matter."

"You do know how much they love you, right?" I asked.

"Whatever."

"Alright." I let it drop because Simonn always puts on a front and I guess he knows we know, but I wasn't going to bug him about it. Men seem to do that a lot. I don't know how to tell my friends they really don't have to.

24 March 1612

Simonn warned us that it might be a while before he can leave his siblings at home. He says Richard mostly takes charge, in his proud role of second-oldest brother, but his mother wants the younger ones out of the house. He says part of the reason he leaves his house from after breakfast to about four in the afternoon is so they can do their chores without him, because he won't be there forever. I told him not to worry, and he said that they practice writing and do chores anyways. Apparently, they like doing chores when he's not home. He thinks they think they're surprising him.

Today we went to the clearing again and it was sunny (rare for March), so they played in the creek and by the berry patch while Sigmun and Simonn and I sat on the grass and read. We studied the novel and I kind of leaned on Sigmun to see the book over his shoulder and I could feel his arm pressed up against mine, and he had that sweet little smile I love, and it was just very overwhelming. And then I got tired in the late afternoon because of my nightmares and I rested my head on his shoulder and I kind of dozed off that way, and while Sigmun was very sweet about it and didn't move and let me fall or something, it was rather embarrassing. But Simonn raised his eyebrows at me and mouthed, "Just kiss him already!" I just shook my head and ignored him.

25 March 1612

We all just read today. Dolora has a few books children can read, so we let Simonn's brothers and sister read those while we studied Greek history. Classical Greek is a tricky language, by manageable. It's certainly easier than what little I tried to learn of Japanese once. I think I might try a few more local languages before I tackle that one again.

Oh, and Dolora stayed home for most of the day today, and she seemed exhausted from her work. I wonder if Simonn's mother is alright.

26 March 1612

My mother screamed at me today when she was drunk. She told me that it was all my fault, everything was. It's my fault Father leaves all the time, it's my fault she drinks, it's my fault she's miserable, it's my fault I'm so ugly and useless and hopeless, it's my fault my friends aren't any good, it's my fault I can't find a husband, everything is my fault. And then she slapped me twice and threw a bottle at me (which I dodged; I've gotten good at that. I didn't used to be, but it was something I had to learn) and she stormed to her room. I made dinner alone and I gave a bowl of soup to Mother (she yelled and I left it and ran) and I ate alone and then I went upstairs to go to bed and I just wish Mother wasn't right.

27 March 1612

We studied chemistry today, and I rather enjoyed it. Simonn's siblings played on the tree again and I tried not to seem upset, but it's hard because Sigmun and Simonn and Dolora are the only three people in the world I really, truly trust. I do trust and love my other friends, but my dear friends I trust more than anyone else. It's funny to think that the only ones I've ever truly loved and trusted aren't even related to me by blood. On the other hand, neither is my mother.

28 March 1612

I dreamed about having a sister again. I dreamed that it was the two of us against Mother, the two of us loving each other and standing by each other. My sister in the dreams was friends with my friends and the two of us read with Sigmun and Simonn and she helped me tell Sigmun about how I love him, and most everything was just so much nicer.

29 March 1612

Simonn's siblings didn't come over today. We studied a chunk of Prussian history and I was tired, but I didn't want to fall asleep because I'd fall asleep on his shoulder and that would be humiliating.

30 March 1612

I had one of those nightmares last night. I don't like those dreams and I'd give just about anything to stop them.

We studied chemistry today and I did almost fall asleep on Sigmun's shoulder because I was just so tired from nightmares, but I didn't. Luckily.

1 April 1612

It's been a strange day.

A man came by today while I was at Dolora's house. We were reading and it was my turn, so I was reading that physics book aloud when Dolora called, "Children!" She never calls us anything but our names (or her names for us, like Sigmun is little love or darling and I'm Dianna dear and Simonn is Simon dear), so I was a little confused. Sigmun called back, "Yes?"

"One of the palace men is here" She walked in very stiffly with a man in a strange uniform who smiled awkwardly and said, "And they are?"

"My children," Dolora said. "Sigmun, Simonn, and Dianna."

"Where's their father?"

"Work."

"And why aren't they working?"

"They're learning. Learning is work enough for now."

The man turned to us and smiled a scary fake smile. "Hello. I'm Mr. Smithe."

"I'm Sigmun," Sigmun said, and he sounded a little afraid.

"Simonn," Simonn said. He just sounded bored.

"I'm Dianna," I said, smiling like I ought to. Men expect women to smile.

The man smiled that false smile again and said, "You're very pretty, Miss Dianna."

"Thank you very much, sir."

"What're you boys reading? Principia? You two must be very clever." He wasn't addressing me anymore, even though I was holding the book. I saw Dolora press her lips together and take a deep breath through her nose. "And very strong, I'd wager."

"Thank you, sir," Simonn said. Sigmun just nodded.

"Are you three triplets?"

"No," Simonn said. "Well, Dianna and Sigmun are twins. I'm a year older."

"I see. How old are you all?"

"Sixteen now. But I'll be seventeen in a week," Simonn lied.

"And what's your birthday?" He addressed Sigmun, not me.

"August first," I blurted anyways. That's my mother's birthday.

"Hm," the man said. Then he turned to Dolora and said, "Ma'am, may I speak with your husband?"

"Their father won't be home tonight. But you may stay for dinner." She sounded deeply reluctant.

"If you would, ma'am."

"Of course. Children, keep Mr. Smithe company."

Once Dolora had left, Mr. Smithe said, "Carry on like you would. Pretend I'm not here."

"I-uh-alright," I stammered. I opened the book to where we left off and started reading. It was intensely awkward, because he looked shocked as soon as I started speaking, probably because I was talking in Latin like normal. He was in Dolora's chair, which was odd because I'm so used to turning there when I need help with a word or a concept and now there was this strange, nosy man there. Eventually I passed the book to Sigmun and we just read like we always do. And every time Simonn or Sigmun said something clever, the man would say how smart they must be. He almost completely ignored me.

At dinner, the man hardly spoke to me at all and he barely talked to Dolora, except to question her. He just told me I was pretty again and then told Sigmun and Simonn how they were clever and strong and they'd do great things someday (like maybe join the palace guard, apparently). It then struck me that he was probably going to stay the night, and that was kind of panic-worthy because he would sleep on the couch and I'd have to stay the night because we had to pretend to be a family. Dolora's house has three rooms downstairs (kitchen, living room/library, and company room) and three upstairs (storage, her room, and Sigmun's room). I couldn't exactly sleep in the storage room, or downstairs if the man was going to be there. And I couldn't sleep in Dolora's room because that would look suspicious. So I had to sleep in Sigmun's room. With Sigmun and Simonn. Who are my best friends, but also boys.

After one very uncomfortable dinner, Dolora had the man go and see if the couch was fit for him to sleep on and she stared at all of us and said, "Can I trust you three? I have to keep this up." I know she meant that if we didn't pretend to be a family, at least Sigmun and Dolora would go to jail, and possibly Simonn and I too. What did it matter if Mother would hit me for staying the night? At least they'd be safe.

"Mm-hmm," I said. Sigmun nodded. Simonn rolled his eyes and said, "Of course."

"I'll lend you something to wear tomorrow, Dianna dear. Sigmun, lend Simonn something."

"I will, Mama."

"Good. Now all of you, it's getting dark. You can read until nine, and then go to bed."

The three of us nodded and went to read a novel.

And then it was about nine and the three of us had to go to bed and the palace man asked, "Where do the three of you sleep?"

"We all share a room," Simonn said casually. "Mother and Father share a room and then we've got the storage closet."

The man nodded, only briefly seeming to wonder if it was odd for three young adult siblings to share one room. On the other hand, he barely noticed me except a brief glance at my chest that made me glad I had my two best friends and Dolora there with me.

I'm very tired and Dolora's going to tell us to be quiet and go to sleep soon. I hope I can sleep decently tonight.

2 April 1612

It's probably worth mentioning that I did yesterday's entry on paper at Dolora's house and copied it in, because writing is the best way for me to fall asleep. Anyways, Mother did slap me today, and she sent me to my room without dinner, and then she told me tomorrow I was using hair thinner whether I liked it or not. I don't know how I'm going to get out of that.

At any rate, here's what happened last night after we all climbed up the stairs to Sigmun's room.

"Uh…sorry about the mess…" Sigmun stammered, stacking books with the titles facing the wall and shoving a few other items under his bed. I asked for some paper and I wrote my entry and then it was too dark to write or read, even with a candle, and we had to go to sleep.

"Probably two people can fit on the bed, so, uh—"

"I'll take the floor," Simonn said. "You can sleep on the bed, Dianna." He gave me this wide, mischievous grin, and I was about ready to slap him, because that just wasn't fair.

"No, it's alright, Simonn. I don't mind the floor."

"Come on, ladies first."

"That's bogus and you know it."

"Look, how about you two," Sigmun gestured to Simonn and me. "Share the bed and I'll sleep on the floor?"

"It's your house," Simonn said. "I'll be fine. I like the floor. Just toss me a blanket and I'll be asleep in two minutes."

"We could both sleep on the floor," I said.

"That'd be ridiculous," Simonn said. "You two share the bed and I'll take the floor."

Suddenly, Dolora shouted from downstairs, "Bedtime, all three of you! I don't want to hear another peep out of you for the rest of the night!"

"Sorry, Mama!" Sigmun called. "Look, if it'll shut you up, Simonn, fine." So he lied down on his bed and glared at the wall and I was blushing crimson, but I lied down too (facing the opposite wall, of course) and tried to close my eyes, but my entire body was tense and I was suddenly sure he could read my mind, because I was sure I was going to have one of those dreams (I did) and I was thinking about kissing him and it's just a very married thing to do, sleep in the same bed, and I was feeling extremely flustered and then there was only one blanket left so we had to share it and I hardly slept at all. I know Simonn's doing this on purpose and I don't understand why. He'd know that Sigmun doesn't love me, so why would he do something like this?

I borrowed something from Dolora today to wear and it didn't fit, and neither did Simonn's borrowed clothes. We studied some Italian and then the man finally left and I could change back into my normal clothes and so could Simonn and overall this has been very stressful and I'm feeling very rattled by the whole affair.

3 April 1612

I hate, hate, hate my mother! I hate everything about her! I don't care how much sadness she carries, I hate her! My whole head hurts and I don't think I'll be able to sleep at all. Mother made me sit down and dumped a whole can of hair thinner on my hair and it burned worse than laundry soap or even salt on a cut! And, once she'd finally rinsed it all out (which took more than an hour of cold water pouring over my head), almost half of my hair had turned this awful shade of green! Green hair! I'm so mad I could scream! I don't even remember what we studied today, that's how upset I am. How can I get rid of green hair? What am I supposed to do about that?

4 April 1612

I decided to ask Dolora for help, because I can't have green hair. I walked over to Sigmun and Dolora's like always and when I got there, Simonn covered his mouth with one hand in some attempt to not laugh.

"Don't you dare laugh."

"Sorry," Simonn said, laughing. "What happened? Bad dye?"

"For your information, my mother shoved me into a chair, dumped hair thinner on my head, and made me sit there for two hours while she rinsed it out. And it didn't do squat except turn my hair green! Where's Dolora?"

"In the village."

"Dammit!"

"What's wrong, Deedee?" Sigmun asked.

"I have green hair! What do you think is wrong?"

"Okay, I guess that's obvious. Mama said she'd be back by three tonight."

"Great."

"I'm sure it'll come out. Mama's good at things like that."

I shrugged. "I sure hope so. Someone else choose."

So we read the physics book again until Dolora came home, a bit later than three, and Simonn left. "Hello, little love!" she called. "Who's over?"

"Dianna."

"Hello, Dianna dear."

"Hi, Dolora. Uh…can I have your help with something?"

"Of course, dear. What with?"

"My mother made me use hair thinner yesterday and…" I walked into the kitchen and held out a lock of my green hair.

"Alright, Dianna dear. Don't worry, I've seen this before. It'll be fixed in no time."

"Thank you so much, Dolora."

"Any time. Now sit down here and I'll set to work fixing this."

I have no idea what she did, but she washed something through my hair a few times, and then wrapped it for a while, and then rinsed it again, and most of the green was gone, at least faded.

"I'll do that again tomorrow and the green should be all gone."

"Really?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Thank you, Dolora."

"You're welcome. Now hurry on home, it's getting dark.

"Bye, Dolora."

"Goodbye, Dianna dear."

At least the green is mostly gone. I hate Mother.

5 April 1612

Dolora did whatever it was to my hair again and it's back to normal, thank heaven. Green hair! What was Mother thinking?

We studied French today. I like French; it's such a lovely language.

6 April 1612

He was definitely looking at me today. He was looking at me, too, not at my chest like most men do. I wonder what that was about.

We studied that physics book today and for once it wasn't so bad.

7 April 1612

We practiced calligraphy today and I'm getting decent at it. I like the fancy letters and I just really like how much fun it is to write. It's pretty, like I'm not.

8 April 1612

Simonn was bugging me today. He's like a mosquito.

"Tell him."

"No."

"Tell him."

"No!"

"Tell him."

"For the absolute last time, no!"

"Tell him."

"Shut up!"

"You're really messing with your own head, doing this."

"I am not."

"You are. You're making yourself miserable. Just tell him, get it off your chest. You've got nothing to lose, believe me."

"How do you know?"

"Just trust me!"

"Is that all boys ever say?"

"What do you mean?"

"That's what Sigmun said about you two keeping secrets!"

"We're not keeping secrets, Dianna!"

"I know! I just...I can't tell him!"

"You can't trust me?"

"No! I can't risk it! I can't let him break my heart!"

Simonn didn't say anything for a very long time. "I can promise you won't get your heart broken. I swear."

"On what?"

"On my life." He sounded sincere for once and I desperately want to believe him. "I could seriously tell him for you, if you want."

"No. I have to do this myself."

"Fine. But you have to tell him by…"

"August."

"May."

"Too early! June."

"Fine. Until the end of June. I'll hold you to it."

"Fine…"

We studied Austrian history today and it was quite interesting, but I was too on edge to appreciate it.

9 April 1612

I had a dream last night about…I don't want to write it, I don't even want to think about it. I had a dream that...that I killed my friends. It was awful…

And on top of that, I had one of those dreams with drowning and Sigmun and it was him screaming about how I ruin everything, everything, absolutely everything. It wouldn't be so bad, but he's right and it's what I most fear.

Oh, and we studied German history today. It wasn't too bad.

10 April 1612

It's gotten warm out, finally. Well, kind of warm. The rain's been bad, though; I wish my cloak protected me from the damp as well as the cold. We didn't study anything today; we went into the woods and followed the creek a bit further. I wonder where it leads?

11 April 1612

My mother told me I had to change my clothes today before I left the house because I wore shorter sleeves. We had another argument over it and Mother won, so I spent the day feeling overheated in my long-sleeved winter dress. I don't like my winter dress much; my summer dress is much more comfortable. All my skirts and shirts are comfortable, at least.

Oh, and I slept enough last night that I didn't drift off at all. It was raining, so we studied Russian.

12 April 1612

Today Simonn and Sigmun and I went into the market and we met the others and Mariek and Neolla and Hannah and I split off to talk at the park. The boys went to do something I'm sure seemed like a good idea at the time.

Mariek brought up love before long (she's eighteen already and she's done things with men) and she asked me who I loved because of course that's what she'd do to me. So I decided I'd ask them, too.

"I'll tell you if you tell me. All of you."

"Simonn…" Hannah whispered. I think only I heard her. (I'm making a mental note to not, under any circumstances, forget this.)

"Fine," Mariek said. "Sumner."

"No way!" Neolla screeched. She and Mariek are like sisters. "Well, I wouldn't mind Sigmun, but you've got him wrapped around your finger. So I'd say…"

"Wait, what?"

"What what?"

"What do you mean I've got him wrapped around my finger?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Isn't what obvious?"

"Dianna," Mariek interrupted, all simpering and confident. "He is head-over-heels in love with you. He's really obvious about it. It's kinda cute, actually."

"W-What?"

"Dianna. Sigmun. Is. In. Love. With. You."

"N-No he's not!" (I was stammering like there was no tomorrow). "I've heard him talking."

"Psh," Mariek tossed off. "Don't trust a guy when he talks. You've gotta watch how he acts. And let me tell you, he doesn't take his eyes off you when we're all sitting around here. I can't believe you haven't noticed."

"Yeah," Neolla agreed. "He always looks so lovesick around you."

"She's right," Hannah agreed.

"S-stop it!" I sort of shrieked. "Stop it!"

"Why, what's wrong? You don't like him back?" Hannah asked nicely.

"N-no, it's not that."

"So you do like him!"

"Shut up! Just shut up!" That time I shrieked properly. "Stop it!"

"What's wrong, Dianna?" Neolla asked. Mariek scoffed and crossed her legs.

"N-nothing, I'm fine." It's really overwhelming having so many people lie to you at once when it's just the lie you want to hear. "It's very nice of you to say so. But you're wrong."

"How on Earth could we be wrong?" Mariek asked.

"Just…trust me. Okay? He doesn't love me."

"Then who does he talk about?" Mariek asked.

"Uh…I don't know anymore. I thought Neolla, but..."

"Has he ever actually mentioned a name?" Neolla asked. "Cuz I was kidding, you know. I don't really like him. I don't really like anyone the way Mary means. I just meant he wouldn't be too bad to end up with if someone else was taken."

"He's never said a name at all. But he won't tell me. He's told Simonn and I tried to get Simonn to tell me, but he wouldn't tell either."

"Right," Neolla said. "You know, it is entirely possible he loves you and that's why he won't tell you."

"Wait—did you tell Simonn?" Hannah asked.

"Of course."

"Wow," Mariek said. "I…just…wow." She looked at the sun (to check the time) and said, "Well, good luck, darling. Don't go breaking too many hearts while we're gone."

"See you," Neolla said.

"Bye."

What did she mean? Sigmun doesn't stare at me. I'd notice. And why'd she say "good luck"? And "wow"? What did she mean?

13 April 1612

They've stopped the whispered arguments/conversations, but I overheard some of a different conversation today and it was a little bit odd.

"…Just one question: do you love her, or do you want her?" Simonn asked.

"What?"

"I may not know a lot about love, but I know there's a difference between loving someone and wanting them."

"I don't want to talk about this."

"Just hear me out. It's…Okay. I wanted Mariek when we were kids. You wanted Neolla. Do you love her or do you want her?"

"How am I supposed to know that?"

"What do you think about when you think about her?"

"I…I don't want to talk about it!"

"Spit it out. It's not like anyone else is listening." (Oops.)

"I…I…"

"Siggy, for heaven's sake, just tell me the first word that comes to your mind, or sentence, or something."

"…Happy."

"Wow. That's impressively sappy and romantic."

"Shut up! You asked for it!" (Sigmun sounded so flustered, and I'd bet anything he'd turned crimson.) "I just…happy. I want her to be happy…"

"You're a hopeless romantic."

"Stop it!"

"S'true. I bet you dream about her."

"No!"

"Yeah you do. I bet you dream about her loving you and—"

"If you don't shut up, I'll make you shut up."

"Yeah right."

"Anyways, you can't tell me you don't dream about Hannah—"

"You shut up!"

"Only if you do!"

"I am shutting up!"

"Why do you always do this to me? You'd know if she loves me or not."

"I can't tell you. I swore I wouldn't tell anyone who she loves."

"I hate you."

"Well, I could tell her—"

"No!"

"Then don't bug me about it. I keep my promises."

"Fine, fine. Can we talk about something else?"

"Fine. Let's go wait for Di-ann-a." He drew out my name and I don't know why.

"Shut up."

The two of them came downstairs and they saw me and Sigmun ducked behind Simonn and I don't know why.

14 April 1612

Hearing that conversation yesterday has made me question myself. Do I love him? When I think of him, it's like a bubble inside and I just want to see him happy. I want to make him happy. Is that love? I hope so.

But I also can't stop thinking about how nice it would be to hold his hand, to feel his arms holding me, to kiss his lips and feel him kiss me back. I wonder what his hair would feel like between my fingers, what his hands might feel like entwined with mine, how the sun would feel shining on us if we were together…no, I'm not supposed to be thinking like this! Reading all those romance books must've messed with my mind, that I have all these dreams of romance.

15 April 1612

Today we went to the river to see about swimming. The ice was breaking up and the current was fast from snowmelt. It would be crazy to go swimming right now; it's too cold and too rapid to be safe. I'm sure Sigmun will jump in anyways once it's warm enough, and this time Simonn better pull him out of the current. I'm not eager to get caught in the river, and I'm certainly not eager to lose Sigmun in the river.

I had one of those nightmares again and a dream of the two girls last night. What do they mean?

16 April 1612

I had another argument of a sort with Simonn today. Mother, too, but she was just screaming at me over dinner.

"This is ridiculous," Simonn said after a while.

"It is not! What am I supposed to do, just walk up to him and kiss him?"

"Yes!"

"I can't do that!"

"Why not?"

"Because...because...because I've never kissed anybody!"

"Well, you'll get a chance."

"I don't know!"

"What do you want? Practice kissing?"

"Just leave it alone!"

"Fine. I'll leave it be. But remember: June."

"June."

"What about June?" Sigmun asked, returning from the garden with mint leaves.

"Just something I have to do," I said.

"What?"

"Nothing important. Never mind."

"Alright. I'll take your word for it." He handed us both some leaves and added, "Here. I picked the best ones."

I'll kill Simonn if he tells.

17 April 1612

Mother and I got in such an argument today. I don't even know what I did wrong this time.

"Diana! Get in here!" (She says my name with one n and I hate it.)

"What is it, Mother?" I don't call her Mama because Mama is a term of affection and I don't want to give Mother my affection.

"Did you do this?"

"Do what?"

"You know what!"

"If I knew what it was, I wouldn't be asking!"

"You rotten, lying, useless girl! This letter it what!

"What letter?"

"It's from that awful poor boy who lives in the woods with no proper father! That educated, illegitimate, abandoned child!" She spat each word like an insult, like the worst insult she could say, and it made me angry. I may love Sigmun more and differently than I care to admit, but he is still my best friend and I will defend him.

"It's not his fault he's illegitimate, or abandoned, or poor! And who says education is bad?"

"I do!"

"I don't care! Give me that! It's for me!"

"It's for whoever gets the mail."

"It's for who it was addressed to!"

"You're not getting this letter, you little brat!" She slapped me and held out a bottle like a weapon. It was empty and I knew she'd been drinking.

"Give it to me!"

"You want it? Go get it!" She threw my letter, a letter from Sigmun of all people, into the fire and whipped back around to glare at me.

"Mother! How could you?"

"How could I? How could I?" she shrieked. "How could I! Did you see that letter?"

"No I didn't, because you destroyed it!"

"It was trash, rubbish, from an educated mind."

"You can't even read!"

"And you can? You whore! I can read enough to know what a whore you are!"

I was thoroughly confused. "What are you talking about?"

"You know already!"

"No I don't!"

"It doesn't matter, because it's gone and you'll never see it again!" She had this awful, triumphant smile on her face and I hated it.

"I hate you! I hate you!" I screamed, and I had angry tears in my eyes. "I hate you so much! Why did you take me in the first place? I'd be better off dead!"

"Why, you ungrateful little bitch! Get out of my house!"

"With pleasure!"

"And when you come crawling back, I'll be ready!"

"You better me!" I ran upstairs, grabbed a few things (including my journal and pen), and stormed out. The only place I could think to go was Sigmun and Dolora's, so I ran there in the dark and knocked on the door.

"Dianna dear? What are you doing here? Is everything alright?"

"I'm fine. Mother...Mother made me leave."

"Come in, come in," Dolora said. "You can sleep here, of course. I suppose you'll have to sleep on the couch…"

"It's alright," I said. "Thank you so much."

"Any time, Dianna dear. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Dolora."

What a day.

18 April 1612

It was raining again, so we studied from that physics book Simonn likes so much. Simonn planned to stay for dinner, so Dolora invited me, too, but Mother would be expecting me home now that she was sober and I didn't want to get her upset again. My last bruise still stings. Dolora asked again (I think she's worried about me) and I said I couldn't again, and then she gave up.

"I really can't, Mother will get upset."

"Alright. Make sure to get home before it gets dark out, Dianna dear."

"I will."

"And don't forget to chew mint leaves before bed."

"I won't."

"And eat your vegetables."

"I will."

"And—"

"I'll remember all of it, Dolora. Promise."

"Good. Now, hurry on home, before it gets dark."

"I will. Bye!"

"Goodbye, Dianna dear."

It's nice to know someone cares enough about me to remind me to chew mint leaves (so you don't wake up with bad-tasting breath) and eat vegetables and keep safe.

19 April 1612

Mother hasn't said anything more about my letter. I still don't know why she was so upset about it, or why she called me all those names. I think she's forgotten, too.

Sigmun asked me why I stayed over the other night and I told him Mother got mad because of a letter, and then I told him it was his letter on accident, and he apologized, so I told him not to worry, and was it important, because she burned it before I could read it, and he said no. I wonder what it was about.

We went to the prickly clearing today and made a little headway cleaning it out. It's a project so we can have a nice garden here, with berries and herbs and everything. It's one plan Dolora doesn't worry about when we work on it.

20 April 1612

We finally got back to working on the bridge. I think when we're done, we'll have an achievement of a sort to be proud of. I can't remember the last time I was proud of something I did, or at least helped with.

21 April 1612

I still can't stop wondering about the letter. What did it say? What on Earth would he send me in a letter that he couldn't tell me in person? Why did Mother get so mad? How did she manage to read any of it? I don't understand.

It was raining, so we stayed inside and studied algebra. It wasn't bad at all.

22 April 1612

We worked on the bridge today. We've been weaving the rope back and forth through planks set perpendicular to the two original ropes, and we're about a quarter of the way across. We'll be all the way done by the end of the summer, with that and the clearing.

23 April 1612

I had one of the nightmares last night. This time, he laughed at me for expecting something good to come of his letter. He told me it was a letter telling me to go away and never come back. Then when I slipped under, the river was full of that awful hair thinner and it burned my whole buddy and I couldn't scream and I woke up terrified. At least my hair's not actually green this time.

We explored some along the creek today. It's such a nice little creek. If I were to chose a place to spend time alone with him, I think it'd be there.

24 April 1612

It was raining today, because it's always raining in April, and it was warm inside, and I was tired, so I drifted of on the couch and for once nothing odd or humiliating happened while I was asleep. And when I woke up, Sigmun offered to walk me home. He really is very sweet.

25 April 1612

I dreamed last night about going to the city. It was a fleeting sort of dream, just a moment of a huge city in front of me that I couldn't wait to see. I wonder what that was all about.

We worked on the bridge today and I think that Dolora was worrying about us again. She does that a lot.

26 April 1612

Today we went to the old house that burned down we found last year. It's still as strange as ever. I wonder what happened here so many years ago. It must've been a long time ago, before Dolora lived here, and it must've been contained. I just wonder.

27 April 1612

Mother didn't recognize me today. She was drinking and when she vomited, she talked about how much she hated me and I should just die and then she went to her room and I brought her a plate and ate dinner alone. Then I cleaned up the mess she made, bottles and drink and vomit and broken glass and droplets of blood and it was awful. I'm so…so tired. I'm tired of cleaning up after my mother. I'm tired of her being angry with me. I'm tired of everything being blamed on me. I'm tired of being unloved.

28 April 1612

We went to the market today and I stayed with Neolla and Mariek and Hannah while Simonn and Sigmun ran off with Sumner and Patrik. I couldn't find them it was getting late, so I guessed they had gone back to Dolora's without telling me and I was kind of annoyed about that, but I just sighed and headed for Dolora's.

"Dolora! Are Sigmun and Simonn home?"

"No, Dianna dear. I thought they were with you."

"Oh."

Dolora sighed audibly. "Would you like to help with dinner, Dianna dear?"

"Sure."

"Alright. Chop up these carrots, alright?"

"Okay." Dolora just seems to understand me without asking, even more so than my best friends. I really like her and I wish she didn't seem to always have echoes of sadness in her. I can tell that things happened in her past that she doesn't talk about and it makes me sad to see her so sad, too.

Anyways, I was done with half the carrots when I heard the door open and I knew Sigmun and Simonn were home. They walked into the kitchen and I honestly had no idea what on Earth had happened. Both of them were covered with berry juice and smelled like fish. Not to mention they had bruises on their arms and I think Sigmun's hair had been cut a little bit, because it was more of a mess than usual. "Um…what happened?" I had to ask.

"I…It seemed like a good idea at the time," Sigmun said, sounding rather defeated.

"Both of you, go take baths right now," Dolora ordered. "We'll talk about this once you're clean."

"But—"

"No buts. Go clean up and I'll have dinner ready." Once they'd left, Dolora sighed. "Dianna dear, would you like to stay for dinner?"

"If it's no trouble."

"It's never any trouble," Dolora said, smiling kindly. I want to believe that I'm really no trouble when I stay for dinner, but I know Dolora and Sigmun don't have a lot.

Once they'd come back, Sigmun and Simonn were both drenched and very unhappy-looking. It seemed that most of the berry juice was gone, as was the fish smell. But there were still bruises.

"Alright. What happened?"

"Well…Sumner suggested that it would be fun to try to jump around on the tops of the buildings," Sigmun started

"What on Earth?!" (That was me.)

"And then Sigmun decided to jump from the top of the inn to the roof of the fish seller's stand—" Simonn continued.

"And then the fish seller's was too far away and I missed and crashed into a barrel of fish—"

"And we all landed in this pile of dead fish and got kind of stuck—"

"And we heard the fish seller yelling so we ran away—"

"Right into a crate of berries that someone was dragging because they'd gone bad—"

"And then there were two angry people chasing us—"

"So we hid behind the dry goods store—"

"And then it was late and we ran here."

Dolora sighed heavily and said, "Did any of you think, for a second, that you could've caused a lot of damage? You could've hurt people."

"I know…" Sigmun said. "Sorry."

Dolora sighed again. "Nothing to be sorry for. Just don't try anything like that again! You could've died. I was worried about you."

"Sorry, Dolora," Simonn said.

"It's fine, Simonn. Just…keep yourselves safe. You too, Dianna." I do dumb things like that, too (especially with Mariek around), I just don't get caught. I think Dolora knows.

"Yes, Dolora."

"Right. Now that that's settled, it's just normal stew for dinner tonight. I didn't have time for something nice."

"It's fine," Simonn said. "You make the best stew anyways."

"Thank you, Simonn."

"You're welcome."

I know Simonn tries to pretend that compliments aren't really his thing, but he's really very kind.

I stayed for dinner and then went home. I can't believe my friends did something that crazy! I mean, besides that Mother would yell at me for it, I think it was pretty insane. I hope they're both alright, because that was a pretty silly and dangerous thing to do. I'm sure they are; we're always alright in the end.

29 April 1612

We worked on the bridge today and I'm very proud of the work we've done. I think we're halfway across. I'm so excited! We'll be able to explore the other side of the river soon, and that's going to be a lot of fun. It'll be a whole new world for us to discover, and though I'm sure a million people have discovered it before, it's going to be new to us.

30 April 1612

Exciting news! Today we were all talking and Sigmun mentioned that Dolora's taking him to the city in January for five days, which is a long time.

"Oh. So we won't be seeing you for a while then," I said.

"No, no, you misunderstood," Sigmun laughed. "I'm inviting you. Mama said you two can come, too, if you like."

"Really?" Simonn asked. "The city? As in, the city-the city?"

"What other city could I possibly mean?" Sigmun asked. "Yes, the city. We're going to stay with my great-aunt Matilda and Mama's going to visit with all her old friends and she says if you come, we can explore the city together!"

"You're kidding," I said.

"I'm not!" Sigmun retaliated. "We leave January sixteenth and come back on the twenty-second. Two traveling days and five days in the city."

"I'll go," Simonn said. "I don't know what I'll tell my parents, but I'll go."

"I'd love to go," I said. "But my mother…"

"We'll help you come up with something," Simonn said.

"Yeah," Sigmun agreed. "You can't miss your chance to see the city! Anyways, it'd be lonely with just us two."

"Thanks," I said, and I meant it, because it does mean a lot to me that they'd help me lie to my mother so I can come with them to see the city. Also, it's nice to know they appreciate my company.

"So, we'll be seeing the city in…eight months!" Simonn said, grinning from ear to ear. "Jeez. I've always wanted to see the city. Museums, libraries…"

"I bet they have theaters," Sigmun added.

"And a huge marketplace!" I said. "It'll be amazing."

We talked about everything we'll see in the city for a long time, until Simonn and I had to go home. The city! I'm sure I'll find something to tell Mother. We're going to the city!


	5. May-June, 1612

1 May 1612

I've been trying to avoid the topic in my head, but Father's coming home soon. Mother's been drinking so much recently I'm not sure she remembers. I think he'll be home in about a week.

Well, Mother remembered partly. Enough that she started obsessively cleaning the house and sent me to buy nice food at the market. And she tried to make me put on makeup yet again. I'm sick to death of it.

2 May 1612

My father comes home twice a year:

Once in late November

Once in early May.

He gives me a toy

From a far-off land

Asia or Africa or India

Somewhere I've never been

And he pats me on the head

And says, "Happy birthday, son," (In November)

Or, "I'm proud of you, John," (In May).

And he eats dinner with Mother and me

Spends one night here

Leaves in the morning

And goes on his merry way.

But…

I'm a girl

In a girl's body.

I was born in August

August twenty-second, a stormy Sunday

And the toy is for a little boy

(Five or so)

And he says a number at least three years

From my age.

Last November, he said thirteen.

I was sixteen.

And my name's not John

Or Joan, or Jane, or Jean

Or even something common like Mary.

It's Dianna

(Like the huntress

Like the goddess).

My father comes home twice a year

And each time

He forgets a bit more.

And there's my poem for 1612.

3 May 1612

Father left today and he left me with that awful loneliness again. It's just...he's my father. Isn't a father supposed to be proud of his children? Maybe I'm not his daughter by blood, but he's still supposed to be my father! It would...it would just be nice if someone was proud of me, for once.

4 May 1612

I think Dolora's nervous about visiting the city. We were trying to think of something to tell Mother and Dolora stood up and started pacing and just generally fidgeting a good deal. Maybe the woman she loved lives in the city and she's worried about seeing her again. I certainly would be.

A whole stack of letters came for Dolora today and she read them all faster than I've ever seen anyone read. When I asked, she just said. "My friends," and held one letter tight enough to wrinkle it. "From the city." So I nodded and left her alone. She must be tense, waiting to see her friends like that. And maybe even the woman she loves.

5 May 1612

Today we practiced some fancy calligraphy and I was tired and my hand was shaking, and Sigmun said, "Here. Let me help." He rested his chin on my shoulder and held my pen hand in his and his chest was pressed against my back and he guided my hand across the page to write the alphabet in neat calligraphy letters. I could feel every single movement of his body and every single beat of his heart and his hand on mine was warm and soft and strong and I felt my whole face heat up and turn crimson. Simonn smirked and I glared at him.

Anyways, Sigmun helped me write my name and I'm probably going to keep it because I'm just a sentimental idiot that way.

6 May 1612

I had that nightmare again last night. I haven't been having it so much since February, but it still haunts me a good deal. I don't like it, especially since we're going to be swimming soon, once it's warm enough out.

Today we finished half of the bridge. We'll be done by June.

7 May 1612

We went into the village today and apparently it's Hannah's sister's birthday.

"Eleanor?"

"Eleanor. She's fourteen today."

"I thought you only had two sisters," Neolla interjected.

"Eleanor doesn't talk to people much. She keeps to herself," Hannah said quietly.

"Like you?" Mariek teased. I glared at her.

"Kind of…" Hannah said. "But she doesn't have anyone like you guys."

"Too bad," I said. "Does she just not talk much?"

"Yeah. She likes being alone. Not like Alice or Dorothy." (Alice is ten, Dorothy nineteen.)

"You know, you could've made less of a deal of turning sixteen, but I'm not sure how," Neolla pointed out. "What was that, March…sixteenth?"

"Mm-hmm. But with Simonn's mother and everything—"

"Right. because you looooove him," Mariek taunted. Hannah blushed the color of red wine and looked at her feet.

"I just…I just like him. A lot. Like I'm full of butterflies."

"That's what it's like to be in love. That, and being run over by a horse and then falling out of a tree," Mariek said. She certainly put her finger on what I feel about him. I used to think Mariek's loves were mostly lust, but now I think she must know how it feels to be in love.

8 May 1612

I dreamed about the two girls again. In this one, the older girl held out something to me. It looked like an old book, bound with leather and pages swollen with handwritten words and water stains and age. "Yours," she said. "Yours." She kept talking, but all I heard was "yours" and (once or twice) "thank you." I tried to take the book, but I could never quite reach it, no matter how hard I tried. The younger girl had a book, too, but it was new, and she held it close to her chest. I think they were both journals, but the old one didn't look like it was mine.

I talked to my friends about my weird dreams of the two girls today.

"Do you guys ever have weird dreams? Like, really weird dreams?"

Simonn gave me a look.

"Sorry."

"Sometimes I have dreams about these two boys, one who's a bit younger than me and one who's a little older, and I think they're from the future too," Sigmun said.

"What?!" I kind of screamed.

"Wait—" Simonn said. "You have those dreams too?!"

"I do too!" I added. "And you can't talk to them, but they look like you, but—"

"Not enough to be you? And they look like siblings?" Sigmun added.

"They even have the two different eyes!" Simonn said. "And the right one's blue and the left one's brown."

"The older girl in my dreams is always carrying a baby," I said. "And I think she knows me."

"The older one in my dreams always looks like he's really frustrating about not talking and the younger one always looks annoyed," Sigmun said.

"I don't know if the older one is okay or not in my dreams because he always looks like he's somewhere else in his head. And the younger one looks annoyed, too."

"The younger one is my dreams always looks kind of guarded," I said. I just couldn't believe they had these dreams, too. And I saw Dolora watching us carefully, like she maybe had that sort of dream as well.

"This is weird," Simonn said. "So not only do I accurately predict my sibling's survival, we all dream about pairs of people who look like us and each other…who we've never met but who sometimes know us?"

"I think that's just me," I said. "She seems like she's got something very important to tell me."

"Huh," Sigmun said. "I wonder what it means."

"Beats me," Simonn said. "Unless they're important people from our futures. I'd prefer we'd be the important people in each other's futures, but who knows."

"This is surreal," Sigmun added. He shook his head and I nodded.

What on Earth are these dreams about?

9 May 1612

I want to cry and I don't know why. Or, I don't know what particular thing it is. Maybe it's Mother screaming at me that I will never be loved, and I will never deserve love, and screaming at me for every insecurity I possess, which is a good number. Maybe it's that I tried, I really did try, to tell him today, and all I could do was stammer and then run home. Maybe it's that my throat hurts from screaming and thirst and just being so tired. Maybe it's just that I know how hopeless and useless I am.

Usually I curl up on my bed and bury my face in my knees when I want to cry, so at least I can cry without the world watching. (That's how it feels. Lonely and yet watched.) But I've taken to writing recently. I don't know if it's better for me or not, but I certainly hope so.

10 May 1612

I dreamed about having a sister yet again. This time, she was younger than me, and I took care of her like Simonn takes care of his siblings. She and I were close and we shared a room and everything. I wish it was real…

We cleaned out the clearing a bit more today. It's hard work, but I think it'll be worth it.

11 May 1612

Being friends with him is so hard sometimes. I like his friendship, and I would never give up my best friend for anything, but it's hard being so close to him all the time because it reminds me of how I'll never be able to tell him I love him. Whenever he's close to me, I feel almost more real. I feel like his skin is covered in needles whenever he touches me, but in a good way. I hug my friends a lot (at least partially out of habit) and whenever I hug him, I feel his whole body pressed against me and it's very…I don't know the word. I just feel excited and nervous and a little bit in love.

I wonder, if Sigmun were to love me, would he still be my friend? Can you be friends with someone you love? I've heard it said that the best marriages are to people who are also best friends. Most marriages are arranged and the two hardly ever meet beforehand, so how you can marry a best friend remains a mystery to me.

12 May 1612

We plan to try to spend the night in the woods on June sixth. I think that'll be an adventure.

I had that dream again. That awful, awful nightmare. I hate it.

We worked on the clearing today and we're definitely making progress. It's hard, but we'll get there. All good things to those who wait, I suppose.

13 May 1612

I'm feeling flustered again because today, when we were reading after working on the bridge, he kissed me on the cheek. I am completely aware that it's ridiculous, but it's still making me blush. He was reading and Simonn and I were listening and I heard him cough and then he said, "I'm gonna get some water."

"S'alright, I got it," I said. It's just polite.

"Oh. Thanks," he said. I poured three cups of water and brought them back. I gave one to Simonn, who said, "Thanks," set one on the table for myself, and I handed one to Sigmun. "Thanks, Dianna," he said. I sat next to him on the couch and he didn't say anything for a moment, then he leaned over and pressed a kiss on my cheek. I felt my face start to burn and my hands felt shaky, like I was a sapling in a tornado. it was that overall feeling of falling out of a tree all over again.

How am I going to deal with this?

14 May 1612

He really is stunning. He makes my insides turn to butterflies and bubbles, my mind turn to mashed potatoes, my heart leap and try to show itself in my words. I'm not sure I can hold my words back much more. Simonn's right; I'm making myself crazy.

We worked on the bridge today and we're getting close to done. It's very exciting.

15 May 1612

Mother tried to make me try on a white dress today, as if I wouldn't figure out she intended it for a wedding dress. Besides that I want to make my own wedding dress, I don't want to get married! How hard is that to understand? How hard can it be for her to just let me be? I even learned to lace up my bodice on my own so I wouldn't have to rely on her; can't she realize that?

I wonder if she wants to believe I need her, or at least that I love her.

16 May 1612

Mother tried to cut my hair today! With scissors! I'm so mad I could scream! It's not fair! She can't choose what I will do with my hair! I have the same right to choice as she does!

At any rate, I got away from her and when I came home from working on the clearing, Mother had shorter, roughly cut hair and I don't know if I'm crazy or not, but I think I saw her crying.

17 May 1612

I feel a little confused. I have this anger towards Mother, and I don't love her, and I wish I could escape her, but I know she's heartbroken and though I make her sadder, I suppose I could make her happier. If I tried, I could put on makeup and wear the right sort of dress and marry the man she wants me to, but then I'd be miserable for the rest of my life. Maybe it's selfish, but I don't want that.

What do I do?

18 May 1612

It was raining today, so we stayed inside and read all day instead of just in the afternoon. We read about Austrian history and I found it quite interesting.

19 May 1612

We worked on the bridge today. We're almost done.

Oh, and I had my nightmare again last night. I really hate that nightmare. I almost hate it more than being tired. On the other hand, I mostly hate being tired because I can't seem to keep such a tight control over my words.

20 May 1612

Simonn was squinting at something in the distance today and he asked us what it was.

"That's a coyote, Simonn," I said. "Are your eyes okay?"

"How can you see that? It's just a big blur!" he said, squinting more.

"Simonn?" Sigmun said. "I think you might need eyeglasses."

"Oh, that's just great," Simonn snapped. "I can't afford them!"

"Don't worry, you can save up," I said. "You'll be able to get some soon, I'm sure."

"Yeah, I guess," Simonn said grumpily. Poor Simonn. I can't even imagine having bad vision; it must be bizarre.

21 May 1612

Is it so wrong to desire the presence of another person in one's life? Is it really so wrong that I want Sigmun to be in my life differently than he is now? Is it such a crime to fall in love?

22 May 1612

We're almost done with the bridge after the work we did today. But Dolora said there's a thunderstorm coming tomorrow and we can't work on it for a few days because we could get hit by lightning and then it'll be too slippery to be safe. I'd probably have gone out anyways, but Simonn would've talked reason in Sigmun and I.

23 May 1612

We stayed inside from the storm today. Simonn and I dried out by the fire while Sigmun paced nervously. He's never liked thunderstorms. I think it's probably an old fear because Dolora said she found him right after a thunderstorm. I'd be scared of thunderstorms too.

But as it is, I rather like them. I like the rain and I like the loud thunder and I like the bright flashes of lightning. I like it best when it's warm out and I can stand in the rain and it's not cold and miserable. It feels...cleansing. I feel like I can wash away everything my mother piles on me and everything I pile on myself. And I love how loud the thunder is, how bright the lightning can be; I like how it overwhelms the senses and lets you exist in a world of only light and sound just for a second.

Maybe I'm crazy, but I love storms.

24 May 1612

My life is dull. I wake up, I get ready, I eat breakfast, I go to Sigmun and Dolora's, we read or work on one of our projects or explore, I go home, I eat dinner, I battle with my mother, I write, I go to bed. Nothing interesting happens to me.

Simonn noted that today while he and I were talking.

"We read, we work on projects, you stare at Sigmun until I could cut the tension with a knife-"

"Will you drop it? I said June."

"You're running out of time," Simonn reminded me.

"I know! Believe me, I know! Can we just go read or something now?"

"Fine."

So we read a book on Russian grammar while water dripped from the trees outside and I watched Sigmun read because he is quite stunning and I like looking at him.

25 May 1612

We read again today, that physics book Simonn loves so much. I understood most of it, too, and of that I'm rather proud.

Mother and I had a fight today and she threw more bottles at me. I'm so tired of it all. I just want to sleep.

26 May 1612

I could tell Sigmun was upset today and I was worried about him. Simonn stopped by for a few minutes, just long enough to say that his brothers had been fighting the other day and now he has to stay home with them for the day. He had that look that makes me remember how much he cares for his siblings.

At any rate, Sigmun and I went to the clearing and sat in the pine tree, about halfway up. That's where the best branches for sitting are. And like I said, I could tell he was upset. "Sigmun? What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"If I believed that, I wouldn't be asking."

He didn't speak for a long time. "I found her."

"Who?"

"My birth mother."

"Oh." I swung around to his branch and sat next to him. "What happened?"

"Well, you know how I say I don't remember it? I don't remember her?"

"Yeah."

"Well…I guess I'm not entirely truthful about that."

"I know."

"What?!"

"Sigmun, you remember your name."

"Oh yeah… Sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry for. It's not exactly fun to talk about. Anyways?"

"Well, I remember her some, too. And yesterday, I was in the market alone, because you know how Simonn and you left kind of early, and I saw this woman and I thought I recognized her. She sort of looked at me for a really long time before she asked me if my last name was Vantas. And I told her it was, and she looked me up and down and said, 'May I speak with you?' So I said yes, and we went to the park, and she asked me if I was sixteen, and I said yes, and she asked if I remembered her. And I did, I mean, she looked just like all my memories of my birth mother, which I guess aren't many, but I have a couple. Except…much older. And I said yes, I did, and she asked me how I was alive, so I told her about Mama. And she sighed and said, 'You know, you were supposed to die.' So I asked her what she meant and she told me she abandoned me because she wasn't married and I was supposed to die. Then she sighed again and said, 'I hope I never see you again. Goodbye.' And she just stood up and walked away." He'd sort of curled in on himself like he does when he's upset and I know it's because he's trying to protect himself. "I was supposed to die! What does that mean? She wanted me to die! She wanted me to die…" He kicked the tree trunk and I hugged him because he was so upset and I felt bad for him. His own birth mother planned for him to die!

"I'm sorry, Sigmun. That's horrible."

"She wanted me to die…"

"Well, I can tell you that Dolora certainly doesn't. And I don't. And neither does Simonn. Nor Neolla, or Mariek, or Sumner, or Candas, or Orvill, or Grantt, or Hannah. You know, we all care about you a lot. You're my best friend." Seeing him sad makes me sad, too. I don't know why, but when my friends are upset, I feel upset, too. Especially him. I've seen him crying and I've seen him afraid and stressed and angry and everything. I've seen Simonn that way, too. I think that's one of the most important parts of being best friends; that you've seen them in every state and you still like them and care about them.

"I always thought that if I ever found my birth mother, she might at least care about me, or regret abandoning me, or something. She never wanted this for me…she never wanted me to live." He sounded halfway between sad and angry and I felt so bad for him, because I don't care how much a mother regrets being a mother, she shouldn't tell her child that they were suppose to die. I knew there was nothing I could say to make it better, but I tried.

"You know what? She's not your mother if you don't want her to be. She doesn't have to be your mother. I mean, it's your choice."

"She's not my mother," he said angrily. "If she wanted me to die, then she's not my mother."

"And you never have to see her again. Hey, Sigmun?"

"Hm?"

"D'you remember when we were really little and we went swimming the second-ever time?"

"And I nearly drowned?"

"And Dolora pulled you out of the river and told you never to try something that reckless again."

"And she screamed at me and hugged me so tight I thought she'd break my bones."

"So you remember that? Because I think that's why Dolora's your mother. Because she loves you. You can choose, Sigmun."

"She's definitely my mother. I don't care who my birth mother is. If she wanted me to die, then she's not anything close to my mother."

I hugged him again and I ruffled his hair (he pretends to hate it when I do that, but I can tell he doesn't mind). "Hey," I said. "It's alright. Sometimes, the people you're related to by blood just aren't the best people to call family." I know that all too well.

"Thanks, Dianna."

"Any time. What are best friends for?"

He smiled and even though I could still see the heaviness in his eyes, I could also tell he was feeling much better. "You're the best, Deedee."

"Shut up…Siggy!"

"Okay, shut up! You know I hate being called Siggy!"

"And I hate being called Deedee!"

"Then don't call me Siggy!"

"You started it!"

He stuck out his tongue and made a face. "Come on, let's go pick berries."

"It's May! None of them are ripe yet."

"Early berries get ripe round now!"

"How are you always this energetic?" Even though part of it was a front, he at least had the energy for that.

"Because I like to put things behind me! The past is the past and there's nothing you can do to change it, so you might as well learn a thing or two and then keep on moving."

"You are so…I don't even know what!" I laughed, because he is! There's some indescribable quality about him that I just really like.

He laughed (a bit weakly) and basically slid down the tree. We're all good and tree climbing, and he's good at getting out of trees fast. He always wins at tag. But I always win at hide-and-seek. I don't care that games are childish; I think they're fun. I'd rather be childish longer because adults always seem so sad or bitter or drunk or lonely.

I hope Sigmun doesn't meet his birth mother again because she doesn't seem like a nice person and she's not good for him. I want him to be happy.

27 May 1612

I think it'll be warm enough to go swimming soon. The current's still a bit dangerous, but we could hang ropes from the bridge to hold onto, just in case. That's a project to suggest to my friends.

We followed the creek as far as we could and it turns out that it feeds into the river at one end. I wonder where the other end goes?

28 May 1612

We're halfway done getting all the brambles out of that third clearing and Sigmun found a bunch of seeds we can plant next year.

I suggested hanging ropes from the bridge and Simonn said he'd go on a hunt for more rope. I just think it'd be a good safety precaution.

29 May 1612

Simonn said he heard a ghost story in the village about a spirit who waits on the road to the city and preys on men who are unfaithful. Apparently her husband in life started going to prostitutes, and one night she came home from the city and found him with one of them and killed both before killing herself and now she's cursed to wander the path there. A man from our village recently disappeared on the way to the city and they say he wasn't faithful to his wife and it must be the ghost.

I prefer to tell the story about the children who went into the woods and were eaten by wolves, because I know there are no wolves in our woods. The most dangerous animal around here is a coyote.

30 May 1612

It was thunderstorming again today, so we stayed inside and read about the Holy Roman Empire. When I look at history, it seems to me that all empires fall eventually. I don't know how long the Holy Roman Empire will last, but I'm sure it won't be long.

31 May 1612

Mother tried to make me use that awful hair thinner again and I escaped by yanking myself away from her and throwing the whole bottle out a window. She screamed how awful I was and how much I must hate her, to do this to her. I don't know if I hate her, but I certainly dislike her, and I most definitely don't want to show her any affection. I don't think she deserves it.

1 June 1612

We finished the bridge today! Planning and hard work have paid off and it's a fine, usable bridge. I can't wait to explore the other side.

It's funny. When I see him these days, I feel like I'm full of bubbles. I feel like floating, but I also feel how fragile this whole situation is. Any second, needlelike news could pop every single bubble and I would sink again, after letting my hopes and dreams getting so high.

But against all odds, I like the feeling of bubbles. I like feeling light and free and happy. I like seeing him smile and I like hearing him laugh and I just like being around him.

I must be losing my mind.

2 June 1612

Mother was upset today about Father, I think. I can't remember running into a single woman besides Dolora who didn't carry around some burden of sadness. I don't want to be an adult woman because I know I'll have to get married at some point and then I'll be my husband's property. I don't find that fair at all and I certainly don't want to be owned. I am a person, not a possession! I will not be owned!

If I married Sigmun, would he treat me that way? Honestly, I don't think so. Maybe I'm an optimist, but I know him better than most and I don't think he'd treat me like his property.

Oh, and we explored some on the other side of the river today. We followed a deer trail for a bit until we had to head back to get home before dark.

3 June 1612

My entire mind feels like lint. I'm so tired because I didn't sleep a wink last night after I woke up from a nightmare and I couldn't move, I couldn't even open my eyes. I was too afraid to open my eyes. When I did open my eyes, I thought I felt a person in my room, a thief or a murderer or worse, and I couldn't move and I was terrified. After a few moments, I was finally able to move, but I was too afraid to fall back asleep. So I stayed up sewing until dawn. I can't even think straight, and though my friends agreed to stay inside and rest today, I'm still scared to fall asleep.

4 June 1612

I couldn't help falling asleep last night and though I had one of my nightmares, the drowning ones, I woke up and I could move and everything. I'm glad of that, because I don't function well without sleep and I know it.

We crossed the bridge again today and followed a different deer path to a clearing full of berry bushes. They looked fine, but then we took a few back to Dolora and apparently they're nightshade berries. We won't be eating those anytime soon.

5 June 1612

Mother and I had an argument today over some man called David Cooper she wants me to marry.

"Mother, he's ten years older than I am!"

"He'll support you and you can get out of my hair!"

"I can support myself, thank you very much!"

"No you can't! You could never find a job!"

"I have a job, remember? Remember?"

"So you can have a halfway decent dowry, because no man would ever choose you for any other reason! Remember that?"

"How do you know that? Maybe a man will fall in love with me, and not my money!" Which they won't, but Mother doesn't have to know that.

"Don't kid yourself, you useless girl! No one could ever love you!"

"Then why do you bother with me?"

"Because I have no choice, that's why!"

"You could throw me out on the streets! I'd be happier that way!"

"And then where would my reputation be?"

"Nowhere, exactly where being the village drunk woman gets you!" That might've been a little harsh. Or a lot harsh.

"Excuse me?" She slapped me across the face and shouted, "Go to your room! Go to your room and if you dare come out for the rest of the day, you'll get worse! I mean it!"

"I don't want to see you anyways!" I stormed up to my room and slammed the door and now I'm just trying to get this awful weight off my chest by writing. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it doesn't.

6 June 1612

Tonight we head into the woods to stay the entire night there, or at least try. It's incredibly frightening in the woods at night and I don't want to panic and run away this time. I have a bag packed and everything, but I'm honestly kind of nervous.

7 June 1612

That could have gone a lot better.

It started out not so bad. It was dusk, and we set out bedrolls and everything, and we were going to just sit there and wait out the night, and take turns sleeping.

Then it started getting dark.

It's warm out these days, so we weren't cold, but it was scary and I was shivering.

"You scared?" Simonn whispered.

"No," Sigmun said.

"I'm not," I added. "Not at all."

"Me neither," Simonn said, nodding. "Not scared at all."

We sat there, perfectly still, for a very long time. Until I thought I heard something move.

"Did you hear that?"

"What?"

"Something moved."

"No it didn't," Simonn said. "You're paranoid."

"Am not."

"You so are."

"Sh! Guys!" Sigmun interrupted. "I heard it too."

"What?" Simonn asked. "That's impossible."

"There it was again!" Sigmun shouted.

"I heard it too!" Simonn blurted. "Oh my goodness, oh my—"

I heard a loud, loud noise and shrieked. Sigmun screamed and ducked behind me and Simonn ducked behind him and then we all heard it again and screamed louder. "LET'S GET OUT OF HERE!" Sigmun yelled.

"Agreed!" I shouted, grabbing his hand and running for my life. We ran about halfway home before I realized it. "Wait—our things!"

"Dammit, dammit, dammit!" Simonn shouted. We stopped and stood in a circle.

"Not it, not going, I am not going," Sigmun said, shaking his head and tightening his grip on my hand. My heart was already pounding, and now it got ten times worse.

"I sure as hell am not going back there," Simonn said. "Dianna?"

"I hate you, I hate the both of you."

"I'll—I'll go with you," Sigmun offered. "If…if you like?"

"Thanks," I said gratefully.

"And I'll just wait here?" Simonn asked. "Are you crazy?"

"Stay here or come back with us," I said.

"I'm staying here."

"Fine." I ran back with Sigmun and we both grabbed everything we could and then I heard another noise and he screamed and clung to me and I screamed and clung to him and we had everything so we ran back to Simonn, who took his fair share of things from us and ran.

When we got back to Dolora's, we were all out of breath and scared and Sigmun was clinging to Simonn and I and I said, "What the hell was that?"

"I don't know!" Simonn said, panting. "I'm not leaving the house for the rest of the night."

"Me neither," I said. "I'm gonna sleep on the couch."

My friends went upstairs to sleep in Sigmun's room and I collapsed on the couch because I was afraid and exhausted. I'm writing because it was horribly frightening and though I'm certain it was nothing, it was scary.

Dolora sighed and smiled and rolled her eyes rather fondly when we were all home in the morning. Then we went to the place we camped and there was nothing there, except some coyote footprints. So I guess it was a coyote.

I feel incredibly dumb.

8 June 1612

Mother was upset with me today for some reason or another and Simonn was giving me that look again and Sigmun gave me flowers like he does and now I'm angry and upset and flustered and still, there's a part of me that dreams about his lips on mine and his beautiful eyes choosing me.

I really hate that part of my mind sometimes.

9 June 1612

I had the nightmare again last night. This time, he taunted me for hoping, because what was the use in having hope if I was hopeless and everything I'd ever try to do would fail? I don't want to admit how much that hurt, even in a dream. Dreams are awful messes for me, except the very good ones I don't like to think about.

We explored the other side of the bridge today again, even though it was a hundred degrees in the shade. The forest is usually pretty cool.

10 June 1612

I almost died today.

We went swimming because it's burning hot out all the time. Like always, we just dove into the river with our clothes on (because what else do you wear to go swimming) and we were swimming around and Sigmun was doing all sorts of crazy tricks like he can do. He lives right near the river, so he's had the most practice. Simonn likes to jump from the tree branch into the water and splash Sigmun and I. I really prefer just swimming around, though admittedly I can't do any fancy tricks with a skirt on. Sigmun's clothes were all flattened to his skin and I know it's wrong but I couldn't help sneaking glances at him! He's really strong, but not in a sailor sort of way with bulging muscles, just sort of…strong. I hope he didn't notice.

Anyways, I don't know how it happened, but the river can have a pretty strong

current some days and today was one of those days. I'm a decent swimmer, but Simonn jumped in and I was treading water by the edge and I got pushed out of this little eddy we swim in and right into the current and my head slipped under and I couldn't stop it. I just remember everything turned shades of blue and gray and I couldn't breathe and everything was shaped funny and I was kind of cold and dizzy. I remember I broke the surface a couple times and I flailed around, looking for something to hold on to, and I tried to scream out so someone might help me. My ankle hit something and it hurt really badly and I tried to scream again but there was water in my mouth and then I couldn't breathe and I fainted.

Sigmun told me that he and Simonn chased me down the river and finally he dove in and pulled me into another eddy he knew about and then he and Simonn got me out of the water and Simonn ran back to the house for Dolora and Sigmun said he thought I wasn't breathing, but I had a pulse, so he kept trying to get me to breathe. The exact opposite of that awful nightmare.

Well, I woke up with my head on someone's lap and someone was screaming and I coughed because there was something in my throat and I blinked my eyes open and I tried to figure out who was yelling. It was Sigmun and he was shouting, "Dianna! Don't be dead! Breathe or…something!" I blinked again and I tried to sit up but I couldn't and I coughed again, but harder. He hugged me tightly so my head was close to his chest and he said, "I thought you were dead…" I wanted to say something reassuring, but I just started coughing yet again. He didn't let me go until Dolora ran up to us and she made him let me go and had me sit against a rock so she could check me for injury. I was fine (save a twisted ankle), so she made Sigmun help me back (I don't know why, I could walk. Sort of. Not really) and we sat inside for the rest of the day because I couldn't really do much. Sigmun looked very distressed and Simonn kept apologizing because he said it was his fault I fell into the current. I told him not to worry, but he has a habit of worrying a lot. I think it's because of his siblings. Sigmun just kept looking upset and asking me if I was alright. I think it's sweet the way he does that, but I don't know why. Why would he worry about me?

Anyways, I'm feeling better now, but Mother was suspicious. She told me that swimming leads to all sorts of horrible things, and I suppose it's because some people don't wear anything when they go swimming. I'd never do that, though. It's a river; I'd freeze. I just don't mind my clothes getting wet on these hot days. So I told her that at work, we were dyeing fabric and someone splashed water on me. I hope this never happens again. It was horrible.

11 June 1612

Sigmun kept asking me if I was okay again today. I told him I was fine, because I am fine. He's such a sweetheart.

I can't stop thinking about my nightmare, though. This whole thing has been the exact opposite of that particular nightmare. I mean, I did start drowning, but it wasn't because of my inability to swim. And though I couldn't breathe, and everything was blurry and distorted and confusing, Sigmun pulled me out of the river instead of holding me under. And on top of that, he didn't taunt me over some worry of mine (though he wouldn't, anyways), he seemed upset because he thought I was hurt. Everything was the opposite of my nightmare.

This is embarrassing to admit, but his arms around me were so nice, even though I was limp and soaked and coughing. I really liked feeling someone holding me so close, and I liked that he was so gentle when he helped me home. He acted like I was one of Dolora's vases, all fragile and crystalline and delicate. I'd like to believe he was trying to be gentle because he loves me, but on the other hand, I've done the same before (except now of course he's grown much too tall for that) and I meant nothing by it. His touch just felt tender, and kind, and maybe even loving.

But then, I'm wishing it so hard that it's becoming real for me.

Anyways, we read some of my favorite book today and I'm grateful that my friends were there because I felt rather awful. Almost drowning makes one feel awful no matter the circumstances.

12 June 1612

Oh my goodness. Oh my…I can't seem to say anything else. I can't. I can't believe it.

Simonn was busy with his family today because two of his brothers caught chicken pox (thank heaven it's not smallpox), so Sigmun and I walked to the clearing without the pine tree in the middle. There's a log just the right size to sit on, so we sat there and just talked about things. We talked about Neolla going to school, and Patrik making machines (he wants to be an engineer), and about history and books and poetry and just all sorts of things.

And then he started talking about me. Except he framed it different.

"There's this girl in the village, and she's gorgeous."

"Oh?"

"Mm-hmm. She's got chestnut-colored hair and green eyes like no one else and she's short, but that doesn't matter. And if you look at her from the side, she's got the most perfect profile, especially when she puts her hair behind her ears. But she usually walks with her head down and her hair covering her face so no one can see how lovely she is. And if she's walking like I wish she would, confident and happy, it's because she's with her friends and she's laughing and pulling them along to see something new and amazing."

"She sounds really beautiful." I honestly had no idea who he could be talking about, but I was so jealous (the green-eyed monster rears its ugly head. How ironic) and I would've been jealous of her even if Sigmun didn't clearly love her.

"She is. But she's also really clever. She can read and write and do math and understand things. She sees the world different from everyone else. She sees things that need to be fixed and she sees that it doesn't have to be the way it is. She's also the kindest girl I've ever met. She always thinks about everything she does in case it hurts someone. And on top of all that, she has no idea that she's that amazing. She has absolutely no idea how wonderful she is. She thinks she's nothing. And she couldn't be more wrong."

"Sounds like someone you really like."

"She is. And you know what the best part is?"

"What?"

"She's one of my very best friends."

I sort of stared at him for a while, because who could it be? And he sort of fidgeted and I realized he was talking about me!

"I've never kissed anyone. Except Neolla on a dare," he said kind of suddenly.

"Me neither."

"Do…do you want to kiss?"

"I…uh…sure." I decided I had something to say, too. "There's this boy. He's got hair the color of almonds and eyes that flash red in the sun and skin gone tan from all the time he spends outside. He has the most beautiful face and the best smile. He's growing like a weed and he doesn't wear shoes because none fit him. And he walks like he's excited about everything, always with a spring in his step, and he's always smiling. He's brave and strong like there's nothing to be afraid of and he's curious like everything is new every day. He's kind and he always puts other people before himself. He always looks out for his friends and even people he doesn't know. I don't think he's got a clue how amazing he is, either. And…"

"And?"

"And he's about to be my first kiss."

And I leaned in and I was going to kiss him but we both missed and his nose bumped into mine and I giggled a little because I was just so nervous! And then I kissed him for real and his lips were soft, just like I imagined they'd be, and he didn't wrap his arms around my waist or touch my hair or anything like that, and it lasted all of five seconds, but it was even better than I ever thought it would be.

And then of course I could've kissed him again (I certainly wanted to), but Dolora shouted for Sigmun to come home for dinner and I had to go home, too, so I left.

I can't believe it.

13 June 1612

That kiss didn't help me stop the dreams at all, like I hoped it would. Instead, it made them worse. I had three last night! Picnics and swimming and dinners and walks and kissing, always kissing. Actually, I don't want to talk about other things that happen in my dreams. I can't control them and it's humiliating. Mother would kill me if she found out. Thank heaven she can't read! But Sigmun can, so I can't risk this journal leaving my house. I wish I could just kiss him again and then I could stop thinking about him all the time. I hope that's how it works because this is driving me crazy.

I can't stop doubting things nowadays, most of all myself. I wish there was someone I could talk to. I obviously can't talk to Mother. I can't talk to Dolora because she's Sigmun's mother and I can't tell her how I feel about him. I can't talk to Sigmun for obvious reasons. I can't talk to Simonn because I'd be too embarrassed to talk about love. I can't talk to my friends in the village because they gossip (which I guess I'm guilty of, too) and I don't want rumors spreading about me because Mother will find out. I'm going crazy like this!

14 June 1612

Mother's been suspecting I have a suitor she doesn't know about and has decided that I'm not to leave the house. How long will she keep this up? Not forever, obviously. But maybe long enough for Sigmun to find another girl in the village, a prettier girl with money and a sweet mind who's not outspoken and so unfeminine like I am. He's so handsome, he could have any girl he wants. Why am I the one getting flowers? I'm nothing special. There is no reason for him (or anyone else for that matter) to love me! I'm not pretty and I'm certainly not one of the girls who listens to her husband and bears him children and does not question him. I'd be a horrible wife! I'd do what I do now: call him out when he's being stupid, do what I like when I want to, and I'd certainly bear him children but because I want to.

I must go, though. I think a squirrel is outside my window.

14 June, later

It was Sigmun, throwing a pebble. He looked so worried! He asked me if I was sick, probably because I have come over almost every day for the past ten years without fail and I swore up and down I'd come today to work on the clearing. I told him I was fine, and he…I can't believe what he said.

"Dianna?"

"Sigmun? What're you doing here?"

"I came to see if you're okay."

"I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Cuz…" (He scratched the back of his leg with his other foot). "You didn't come today so I thought you might be sick so I brought you something I was gonna give you today." (He said all that in one breath; I barely caught it.)

"Thanks. Uh…how're you gonna get it up here?" (My room is on the second floor and my window is tiny.)

"I guess I'll have to throw it…"

(I ducked and he threw it.)

"So…will I see you tomorrow?"

"Mother won't let me leave the house."

"Oh…" (His face kind of drooped.)

"You can come back and this time I'll have something for you!" (I tried to sound perky.)

"Really?" (I guess it worked because he did perk up.)

"Of course! But…maybe you should go before Mother finds you."

"Okay. See you tomorrow!"

"See you!" (He ran away into the woods and his cloak made him look like a romantic knight…)

15 June 1612

I fell asleep with his letter in my hands. I guess there's no more doubt that he loves me, though heaven knows why. He wrote me a love letter. I'm kind of embarrassed to paste it here, but no one else reads my journal except me. So here it is:

_Dearest Dianna,_

_I've never written a letter before to anyone besides my aunt who lives in the city, and that's only because Mama tells me I ought to. This is different, I think. So…I suppose I should just begin._

_First of all, I just wanted to say that I think you're beautiful. I mean it. I know you don't think you're really "anything special" as you put it, but I completely disagree. Your hair is like spun bronze, except it never corrodes. And your eyes are deeper than the night and more luminescent than the moon. You have the most beautiful smile I've ever seen; you light up the entire room when you smile with those bright eyes. You are…I don't have the words to express how gorgeous you are._

_But I'd be horrible if I just told you you're pretty. I'd be shallow and you'd probably hate me. You're also clever in a way most people don't bother to be. You challenge people and you don't care what other people think and you're…you're just so smart and you work for it. You read and study and write and that's just so amazing, especially considering everyone who tells you you shouldn't. And you're not afraid to talk back. You don't back down from people and…and that's just amazing. So I guess what I'm trying to say is…_

_So I've been bringing your flowers for about a year now. And that's because I…because…(you have no idea how much I'm shaking right now) because I love you. And I just thought I'd tell you. I've written more than twenty versions of this letter and I threw them all out because I didn't think any of them were good enough for you, but here I am, giving you a letter that still isn't good enough._

_So…I just wanted to tell you that I love you with all my heart._

_Love,_

_Sigmun_

I've just read it again and now I'm shaking too hard to write anymore.

16 June 1612

He's coming back tonight. I can't believe it. He loves me! He actually loves me! He likes me the way I am, outspoken and clever and everything! He loves me!

I need to calm down.

I'm writing him a letter to tell him I love him, too. So far I've written three drafts. He should be coming soon, so here's a copy of my final draft.

_Dearest Sigmun,_

_I don't know how to start a letter, either. So, like you, I guess here goes._

_I love you, too. (I thought I might as well tell him right away.) I've loved you for so long now and I never even dared to dream I could tell you. I can't ever hope to tell you how much I love you, even in this letter._

_You're amazingly handsome, too. Your hair is exactly the color of leaves in November and it looks so perfect, no matter how messy. Your eyes are like chocolate, and when the light shines just right through the trees in the clearing, they look a beautiful shade of crimson. You're the single most handsome man I've ever met._

_There's this smile you have. It's a sweet, earnest smile that you give me when you bring me flowers. And it's the most beautiful expression I've ever seen on anyone's face because you are happy and kind and…everything you are is written on your face. You're brave and you're clever and you're kind and you're compassionate and you're strong and…I could go on, but you're about to arrive and I'm running out of paper. So I'll tell you more when I see you next._

_I love you._

_Love,_

_Dianna_

17 June 1612

He looked terrified when he arrived today. I suppose something came up yesterday. I wanted to climb downstairs to see him, maybe hold his hand, or maybe…kiss him, but Mother was awake making a cup of tea, so I had to talk to him from my window. This is how it went.

"H-H-H-Hi Dianna…I…uh…" (He looked down and I could tell his entire face was scarlet). "Did you read my letter?"

"I did." (I couldn't say anymore at this point because my throat just completely closed off and he is far too perfect and I am far too imperfect for me to consider the possibility that he loves me.)

"Uh…I…what…wh-what did y-you think?"

(I didn't respond, I just tossed him down my letter and tried to force my mouth open.)

"Oh. Uh…so you don't…um…reciprocate?"

"No, no, I do!" (Oh, there's my voice.) "I love you a lot and I really—" (I stopped because I wasn't going to say out loud that I wanted to kiss him. My mouth does not always have a filter.)

"Wait, really?"

"Why else would I have been accepting the flowers for the past year?"

"I…I guess I didn't think about that…"

"No, don't say that…Hold on."(I jumped out my window, against better judgment.) "Ouch!"

"Are you okay?"

"Fine, I think." (I had to sit down on the ground because my ankle hurt.)

"Oh. Okay. Good." (He sat down next to me and he looked down like the perfectly awkward sweetheart he is and I felt faint.) "Dianna…so…Iloveyou."

"I love you too." (He kind of leaned in then and I thought he was going to kiss me but he pulled away.)

"I…I have a weird question."

"What?" (I was losing my voice again.)

"Does the time we kissed in the clearing count?"

"I…I don't know. I thought you just wanted to have your first real kiss over with…"

"No!" (He sounded actually kind of afraid, besides of course the "I wouldn't do that!" tone. I don't know why.)

"Oh…"

"So…I guess maybe we should make sure we've had at least one kiss that counts?"

"I guess so…"

So he leaned in and I leaned and our noses bumped but then his lips were soft and smooth and I was kind of anxious but…it got so much better. I know this sounds odd (how can a person taste like anything), but he tasted like mint. His lips were pressed so tight against mine, and I was closer to him than anyone else, ever in my life. And everything just felt so…warm, and real, and there. I don't know, he's the only boy I've ever kissed and my first-and-a-half kiss. But it was amazing. And his hands were combing through my hair and I'd sort of flung my arms around his shoulders and...I don't know. There has to be a word for this, this shaky feeling that made it next to impossible to climb back up to my room, this utter happiness that makes me want to stay up all night and faint to the floor at the same time.

Anyways, we finally broke apart because I had to breathe and he looked about ready to faint so I asked him if he was alright.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm…"

"Are you okay, though?"

"I'm perfect." (His mouth was sort of half-open in shock.) "I mean…you have no idea how perfect that was."

"I think I do."

(I heard Mother finishing her tea.) "I've got to go in. She'll check on me soon."

"Oh. Okay."

"Help me up?"

(He blushed even redder than he already was and I was sure he was going to faint this time.) "I…sure."

"I've done this a million times before with trees."

"Yeah." (He stood right next to my house and locked his fingers together and braced his hands against his leg.) "Okay, go."

(I put one of my feet on his hands and he lifted me up so I could reach the window. I grabbed onto the ledge and he moved his hands.) "Thanks, Sigmun."

"You're welcome, Dianna." (He paused and fidgeted while I climbed up to my window and into my room.) "I love you."

"I love you too." (Mother was about to come in and I gave him a look and he ran again while I covered myself with a blanket and snuffed out the candle.)

18 June 1612

Another letter today. I don't have enough room in my journal for them, so I think I'll keep them in that jewelry box Mother got me when I was six and she loved me. He couldn't stay long because Dolora had someone to care for, but he dropped off the letter and he smiled that sweet, awkward little smile and though it's insane and illogical, I wish he could've stayed a bit longer.

19 June 1612

Sigmun came again today and he smiled all sweet and nervous like he does and he asked me something odd. "Why do you bother with all this just to see me?"

"I could ask the same thing of you!"

"I mean, you're risking running into your mother and getting in a lot of trouble with her if you get caught and I know that'd be pretty bad for you."

"I don't care. She can't do anything to me once I turn eighteen anyways."

"Still."

"You leave your house late and walk all the way here in the dark and risk the guards and the night watchman just to see me! Why bother with me?"

"Because I love you."

"Well, I love you too. And I have something for you."

"What?"

"Catch." I tossed him down my letter (because I wrote another one).

"Thanks."

"You're welcome." I was going to climb out my window again, even though I still have to wrap my ankle, but I heard Mother. "I have to go. See you tomorrow!"

"Bye. I love you!"

"I love you too."

He is so romantic! Most of the men in the village only marry for lust that lasts for all of a year or less before they've married someone they don't love and who doesn't love them and then they're stuck. If I'm…oh my goodness. I'm the girl he was talking about all those times I got to his house too early! I'm the girl he liked since he was twelve! I'm that girl! I…I can't believe it. How could anyone think of me in that light?

It's very startling to realize that the boy you've loved for more than a year has loved you for even longer. It's equally bizarre to realize that he was too shy to tell you for most of that time. I just can't believe it. I'm shaking too much to write; I really ought to just go to bed.

20 June 1612

I'm going to lose my head if Mother makes me stay inside much longer. I grew up in the forest! I grew up with books! I don't belong inside with a pair of knitting needles! Mother doesn't have any books except a Bible, and I don't know where she keeps it. And she doesn't know I can read, so I couldn't even read that. And she doesn't do anything besides needlepoint. She's been doing the same one for three months! While I admire the patience, I do not have the ability to sit still that long unless I'm reading or do needlepoint without jabbing myself repeatedly with the needle.

21 June 1612

I've been stuck here all of a week and I've already knitted a whole scarf. By the time I get out, I'll probably have knitted enough for the entire village. I was restless today and the only thing I did that had any worth was write a letter to Sigmun. I hardly ate anything because I wasn't hungry and I haven't been sleeping so much. I've been avoiding Mother as much as possible, but she is everywhere, it seems.

I must be losing my mind.

22 June 1612

I started a needlepoint today of my friends and I. I can't believe I'm actually doing a needlepoint. Mother must be rubbing off on me. Either that or sitting inside for a week has driven me insane. Probably both. I treasure his letters both as sweet and loving and romantic as well as my only contact with the outside world. I wish I could climb out my window, but my ankle still aches and I think another eight-foot drop wouldn't do it much good. I think I have a right to be upset with my mother this time.

23 June 1612

I tried sewing something today, I'm not sure what. I gave up almost as soon as I started and paced the house because I can't stand this! I'm hardly hungry anymore and though I'd much rather be asleep, I can't fall asleep, even with chamomile tea. Believe me, I've tried.

24 June 1612

I found Mother's Bible today and I started reading it because I need to read something. I don't mean to criticize Mother for liking sewing, but I can't stand doing it for long. And I really can't stand needlepoint. I just don't have either the patience or the skills. I'm sure I'd be good if I practiced, but I'm too restless to practice anything. I need to get out of my house. I have to.

25 June 1612

Genesis is extremely eventful. It's in Latin, of course, so I've been reading a bit faster than I would in English or Italian or something, but it is very dense literature. Anyways, I found out why people treat women so badly. They probably blame Eve for everything. Yet another example of how internalized the whole mess is. And poor Joseph and his brothers! That must've been one hell of an adventure.

Maybe I should ask Sigmun to bring me a book in one of my letters. Interesting as reading the Bible is, it's also got some very, very dull parts. (And someone son of someone else son of someone else…)

26 June 1612

I was so restless today that I started running laps around the inside of my house. Mother yelled at me for it, but I needed to burn energy. I haven't been eating much, though, because I don't feel hungry. I have been sleeping more, though, luckily, so I can sleep the long, dull days away.

27 June 1612

Mother and I got in a fight yesterday because she was drinking and she threw a bottle and it shattered all over the floor. I couldn't move without stepping on broken glass and I noticed Mother's feet bleeding.

After what might've been forever, Mother stormed to her room and I did, too, leaving the glass on the floor. I'm not cleaning up after her ever again.

28 June 1612

His letters seem to be the only thing keeping me sane right now. I'm losing it trapped in the same house as my mother, and it's only been two weeks. How am I going to manage if she keeps me here much longer? What am I going to do? I asked him if he could bring me a book, because I need to read something that'll let me escape to another world just for a little while. He said he'll bring one in a couple days, because he ought to ask Dolora first. I hope he brings a good book; I need to escape.

29 June 1612

I feel sick, physically sick. I don't mean mind-sick, like before, though I feel mind-sick too. I keep snapping at Mother and forgetting things and losing track of my thoughts. I also feel sick to my stomach and I have a horrible headache and on top of all that, my eyes (of all things) ache. What's wrong with me?

30 June 1612

He brought me a book today, my favorite book too! I read the whole thing ravenously like it was food and I hadn't eaten anything in years and I'm probably going to read it over and over until I can't stand to even look at it. But it's a book and it's interesting and I don't feel quite so crazy anymore.

But I still feel trapped. I feel like I'm never going to be able to escape. His letters to me and my letters to him are my only contact with anything outside this miserable house. I feel tense and irritable and I'm glad I write my letters to him because I'm afraid I'd snap at him if I just talked to him. But I want to see him face-to-face, despite the risks. I want to feel his lips pressed so tight against mine again. I want to feel his warmth and see his chocolate-colored eyes. I want to know for sure that he's real. But I can't. My ankle wouldn't survive the drop.

What am I going to do?


End file.
